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ALVA  ROGERS 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 

by  Alva  Rogers 


For  thirty  years,  under  several  slightly  different 
titles,  and  from  several  publishers,  only  one  maga¬ 
zine  was  always  the  science  fiction  magazine.  That 
was  Astounding  Science  Fiction.  Now  metamor¬ 
phosed  into  Analog  Science  Fictionj Science  Fact, 
the  old  Astounding  is  considered  dead  by  many 
older  devotees. 

Alva  Rogers  is  just  such  a  devoted  fan,  and  he 
now  leads  the  reader  through  his  nostalgic  personal 
recollections  of  Astounding.  This  is  the  definitive 
history  of  the  magazine,  from  the  first  issue  in 
1930  until  the  change  to  Analog  in  1960.  This 
fascinating  biography  of  one  magazine  illuminates 
the  whole  pulp  era.  The  author  has  effectively 
recreated  the  aura  of  suspense  and  excitement 
which  surrounded  the  heyday  of  adventure  pub¬ 
lishing,  when  the  pulps  were  king  of  the  news¬ 
stands  and  publishers  fought  to  offer  at  least  one 
title  on  every  conceivable  subject,  either  to  beat 
out  the  competition  or  to  make  sure  all  bets  were 
covered. 

With  the  visual  aid  of  numerous  cover  and  in¬ 
terior  illustrations  from  Astounding,  Mr.  Rogers 
evokes  a  clear  image  of  the  magazine  itself,  and 
of  the  intense  personal  involvement  of  editors, 
writers,  and  fans.  For  the  newer  readers  of  Ana¬ 
log,  or  any  other  science  fiction  magazine,  this  is 
a  rare  view  of  a  glamorous  past,  and  a  compre¬ 
hensive  history  of  the  growth  of  science  fiction. 

Mr.  Rogers  has  the  rare  gift  of  seasoning  his 
tireless  research  with  dashes  of  wit  and  enormous 
helpings  of  love.  To  read  his  work  is  to  share  his 
feeling  for  Astounding  Science  Fiction  and  the 
entire  pulp  era. 


Cover  design  by  Alex  Eisenstein 
Cover  photography  courtesy  of  Conde  Nast  Publications 


Advent: Publishers  specializes  in  critical  and  his¬ 
torical  studies  in  the  field  of  science  fiction  and 
fantasy.  Please  write  for  our  descriptive  price  list. 
ADVENT:PUBLISHERS,  INC. 

P.O.  Box  A 3228,  Chicago,  Illinois  60690 


4  Requiem  for  Astounding 


by  ALVA  ROGERS 


with  editorial  comments  by 
HARRY  BATES 

F.  ORLIN  TREMAINE 
and 

JOHN  W.  CAMPBELL 


Chicago:  1964 


DEDICATION 


This  book  is  affectionately  dedicated  to  my  wife 
Sidonie,  who  denies  that  she  is  a  science  fiction 
fan,  but  who  nevertheless  agonized  with  me  during 
its  writing  and  from  the  very  beginning  insisted 
that  it  should  be  published  as  a  book. 


Library  of  Congress  Catalog  Card  Number  64-57082 

International  Standard  Book  Numbers:  0-911682-08-2  (cloth) 
0-911682-16-3  (paper) 


Copyright,  ©,  1964,  by  Alva  Rogers 

All  rights  in  this  book  are  reserved.  It  may  not  be  used  for  any  purpose  without  written 
permission  from  the  holders  of  such  rights.  Nor  may  the  book  or  any  portion  thereof 
be  reproduced  in  any  manner  whatsoever  without  permission  in  writing,  except  for  brief 
quotations  embodied  in  critical  articles  and  reviews.  For  further  information,  please 
address  ADVENT: PUBLISHERS,  INC.,  Post  Office  Box  A3228,  Chicago,  Illinois  60690. 
Manufactured  in  the  U.S.A.  by  Malloy  Lithographing,  Inc.,  Ann  Arbor,  Michigan  48106. 

FIRST  EDITION:  September  1964 

CLOTH  PRINTINGS:  September  1964,  May  1970 

PAPERBACK  PRINTINGS:  July  1967,  September  1970,  March  1973,  November  1977 


AUTHOR’S  PREFACE 


In  the  history  of  magazine  science  fiction,  there  are  three 
dates  that  are  of  great  significance:  April,  1926;  January, 
1930  and  January,  1960.  April,  1926  marks  the  appearance 
of  the  first  issue  of  Amazing  Stories,  the  first  magazine 
devoted  exclusively  to  science  fiction.  The  second  date  is 
that  of  the  first  issue  of  Astounding  Stories  of  Super-Science ;  a  name 
changed  to  Astounding  Stories  in  February,  1931  and  again,  in  March, 
1938  to  Astounding  Science  Fiction,  which  was  retained  by  the  magazine 
through  January,  1960.  Then,  in  February,  1960  the  name  was  again 
changed  by  adding  Analog  and  Science  Fact  to  the  title  so  it  now  read 
Astounding  (Analog)  Science  Fact  Science  Fiction  and,  although 
Astounding  wasn’t  dropped  completely  from  the  title  until  the  October 
issue,  it  was  evident  to  the  legions  who  truly  loved  the  magazine. 
Astounding,  after  thirty  years  to  the  month,  existed  no  more. 

Shortly  after  that  last  title  change,  I  delivered  a  nostalgic  review  of 
Astoimding’s  thirty  years  to  the  Golden  Gate  Futurians,  a  science  fiction 
fan  club  in  Berkeley,  California.  Following  this  talk,  I  was  urged  to 
expand  my  remarks  for  publication.  In  March,  1961  the  first  of  what 
was  tentatively  planned  as  two  articles  appeared  in  Bill  Donaho’s  ama¬ 
teur  publication.  Viper  (issue  No.  2),  a  quarterly  magazine.  These 
two  tentative  articles  eventually  appeared  as  six  long  articles  under 
the  title,  “A  Requiem  For  Astounding.” 

These  installments  were  enthusiastically  received  and  called  to  the 
attention  of  the  present  publisher.  At  the  insistence  of  Advent;  Pub¬ 
lishers,  those  original  articles  were  considerably  revised  and  expanded 
for  book  publication. 

However,  this  book  was  not  written  as,  nor  is  it  intended  to  be  a 
critical  work;  rather  it  is  a  nostalgic  excursion  into  the  past,  an  attempt 
to  recall  my  impressions  and  opinions  of  the  magazine  during  most  of 
that  time.  Even  more,  this  book  was  written  in  the  hope  that  it  might 


ALVA  ROGERS 


vi 

convey  to  later  generations  something  of  the  color  and  excitement 
generated  by  pulp  magazines. 

The  pulps,  alas,  no  longer  decorate  the  newsstands  with  their  gaudy 
and  dynamic  covers  which  promised  every  reading  adventure  imagi¬ 
nable.  The  rack  space  once  occupied  by  those  flamboyant  dispensers 
of  popular  fiction  is  now  filled  with  girlie  magazines,  hot-rod  maga¬ 
zines,  do-it-yourself  magazines;  everything  but  fiction  magazines. 
True,  we  now  have  the  paperbacks,  and  a  great  thing  they  are,  too,  but 
they  are  not  the  same  as  the  pulps,  nor  will  they  ever  be. 

In  my  adolescence  during  the  thirties,  I  read  and  enjoyed  a  great 
number  and  variety  of  pulp  magazines,  but  my  favorite  reading  was 
science  fiction.  Of  the  three  then  regularly  appearing  science  fiction 
pulps.  Astounding  was  my  favorite.  The  first  issue  of  Astounding  (in 
fact,  the  first  issue  of  any  science  fiction  magazine)  I  ever  read  was 
the  August,  1934  issue  containing  the  first  installment  of  E.  E.  Smith’s 
magnificently  thrilling  serial,  “Skylark  of  Valeron." 

I  was  hooked. 

I  was  eleven  at  the  time,  but  the  memory  of  that  experience  is  still 
as  vivid  as  though  it  had  happened  just  yesterday.  Until  that  time  my 
encounters  with  science  fiction  had  been  limited  to  books;  initially  the 
Oz  books,  then  Tom  Swift,  and  finally  the  work  of  H.  G.  Wells,  Jules 
Verne,  Edgar  Rice  Burroughs,  etc.  I  soon  discovered  there  were  maga¬ 
zines  other  than  Astounding  and  read  and  collected  them  as  well,  but 
Astounding  has  always  remained  my  first  true  love. 

Consequently,  this  book  is  written  with  warm  and  happy  memories 
of  countless  hours  of  reading  pleasure.  There  will,  naturally,  be  some 
who  will  question  my  story  preferences,  dispute  the  emphasis  I  put  on 
certain  issues  of  the  magazine,  wonder  at  my  admiration  of  particular 
authors  or  artists,  boggle  at  my  high  regard  for  John  W.  Campbell,  or 
insist  that  I  should  have  at  least  mentioned  their  favorite  story,  if  not 
discussed  it  at  length. 

Here  the  reader  should  be  reminded  that  this  is  a  subjective  review, 
with  emphasis  on  those  elements  of  the  magazine  that  had  particular 
appeal  for  me.  A  certain  amoimt  of  critical  comment  will  be  foimd 
here,  true,  but  every  attempt  has  been  made  to  eliminate  them;  John 
W.  Campbell  needs  no  defense. 

As  to  why  many  stories  do  not  even  receive  a  mention,  I  need  only 
point  out  that  during  the  thirty  years  of  Astoimding’s  publication,  some 
350  issues  appeared.  If  it  is  assumed  that  there  were  as  many  as  six 
stories  per  issue,  approximately  2,100  stories  appeared  during  those 
thirty  years.  Obviously,  to  mention  all  those,  let  alone  to  delve  into 
them  at  length,  would  leave  room  for  little  more  than  an  index  of  titles. 

Although  the  full  thirty-year  history  of  Astounding  is  covered  here, 
the  heaviest  concentration  is  on  the  earlier  years  in  the  belief  that 
more  readers  will  be  relatively  unfamiliar  with  that  period  than  with 
the  later  years.  Also  in  the  conviction  that  the  pulp  Astounding  of  the 
thirties  and  early  forties  holds  more  nostalgic  interest  for  science 
fiction  fans  than  the  slicker,  more  stereotyped  magazine  of  recent  time. 


AUTHOR’S  PREFACE 


vli 


Finally,  a  few  acknowledgments:  To  Bill  Donaho  whose  gentle  but 
persistent  whip- cracking  kept  me  working  on  the  original  installments 
in  order  to  meet  his  deadlines  for  Viper,  and  for  his  encouragement; 
to  J.  Ben  Stark  and  A1  haLevy  for  the  loan  of  those  issues  of  Astounding 
from  their  personal  collections  missing  from  my  own;  to  Norman 
Metcalf  of  the  encyclopedic  knowledge  and  eidetic  memory  for  invalua¬ 
ble  assistance  in  checking  details;  to  Richard  Lupoff  for  suggesting 
this  book  version  to  Advent:  Publishers;  to  Richard  and  Rosemary 
Hickey  who  supplied  the  photographs  and  to  Edward  Wood  who  made 
his  collection  available  for  photographing.  And  most  especially  to 
Harry  Bates  for  his  overwhelming  assistance,  to  John  W.  Campbell 
for  reading  for  errors,  and  to  the  members  of  Advent:  Publishers  who 
kept  nagging  me  for  this  manuscript.  To  you,  to  all  these  people,  and 
to  the  many  others  who  expressed  their  approval  and  enjoyment  of  the 
original  essays,  my  heartfelt  thanks  and  appreciation. 


— Alva  Rogers 


Castro  Valley,  California 
June,  1964 


EDITORIAL  NUMBER  ONE 


HARRY  BATES 


"to  begin” 


Long  ago  I  was  a  party  to  the  genesis  of  a  magazine  which 
persisted  through  thirty  years  and  thirty  millions  of 
words,  and  now  Alva  Rogers  asks  me  to  tell  you,  of  the 
Faithful,  the  story  of  that  genesis.  I  have  been  aware  of 
your  long  curiosity,  so  I  shall  do  so  in  spite  of  my  feeling 
that  a  more  proper  foreword  to  this  Requiem  would  be  not  history  but 
eulogy,  full  of  nobilities,  with  reverent  references  to  our  proliferating 
goddess  Science,  and  with  proud  pointings  to  the  role  of  the  departed 
as  a  prophet  of  that  Science,  and  with  pleasing  positings  of  the  potency 
of  the  departed  as  a  fecundator  of  that  Science,  and  such. 

But  what  I  say  will  be  not  unfitting,  for  after  a  death  all  recollections 
are  possessions  apt  for  sharing. 

This  book  is  wholly  a  sharing:  a  record  of  love,  offered  with  love  to 
ones  of  like  love.  Among  you  will  be  many  whose  love  goes  back  to  the 
beginnings.  Are  you  aware  that  you  and  I  then  had  roles  in  an  historic 
process?  We  were  members  of  an  avant-garde— the  van  of  the  mighty 
breed  of  Tomorrow.  To  your  parents  and  outsiders,  you  were  a  some¬ 
times  screwy  avant-garde— remember?  They  smiled  at  you?  I  hope 
you  laughed  at  them.  The  fetuses  I— they  hadn’t  really  been  bom!  — 
while  you  were  pioneering  in  any  number  of  worlds,  near-  and  far- 
future  worlds,  topsy-turvy  worlds,  coming- for-sure  worlds,  every  one 
more  exciting  than  the  obsolete  world  of  the  smilers.  Your  fan  clubs 
and  fanzines  were  a  sharing  of  those  worlds.  Our  magazine  was  a 
prime  creator  of  those  worlds. 

All  magazines  are  bom  babies.  Most  pulps  live  frenetic  lives,  and 
few  survive  into  adulthood  and  old  age.  But  of  these  few  was  Astound¬ 
ing  Stories.  It  was  I  who  delivered  the  baby  and  served  its  infant  years. 

I  had  thought  it  also  was  I  who  conceived  it,  so  it  was  with  surprise 
that  some  ten  years  ago  I  read  in  a  fanzine  that  one  Harold  Hersey 
claimed  that  his  was  the  sperm,  and  it  was  with  the  square  of  that 


viii 


EDITORIAL  NUMBER  ONE  ix 

surprise  that  some  ten  days  ago  I  read  in  the  manuscript  of  this  book 
that  Douglas  Dold  claimed  that  h^  was  the  sperm.  Three  sperms? 
No  wonder  you  have  wanted  my  account  of  the  conception,  and  no  wonder 
Mr.  Rogers  stUl  wished  I’d  tell  it  here,  when  I  mentioned  I  was  going 
to  omit  it  as  a  matter  of  no  importance.  Well,  importance  is  one  thing 
and  interest  another,  so  I  shall  describe  it  as  exactly  as  I  can.  It  will 
take  more  space  than  I’d  like,  but  not  perhaps  more  than  it  is  worth, 
come  to  think  of  it,  for,  happily,  the  contrariness  of  the  conception 
may  jar  and  once  more  set  off  the  still  e^^lodable  among  you— heart  of 
the  hard-core  addicts  whom  science  fiction  somewhat  ruined  in  youth 
and  whose  devotions  still  are  special  and  a  little  lopsided,  as  is  the 
nature  of  love. 

As  one  somewhat  ruined  myself,  I  call  the  conception  beautiful. 

It  is  absolutely  accurate  to  say  that  Astounding  was  a  baby  born  of  a 
chance  contact  in  which  one  party  acted  solely  in  lust,  love,  and 
the  other  solely  in  repulsion,  not  desire. 

The  coming  together  of  the  two  parties  took  place  in  front  of  a  large 
sheet  of  glossy  paper  with  thirteen  violent,  colorful  pictures  on  it. 
Had  there  been  sixteen,  there  would  never  have  been  a  Clayton 
Astounding. 

William  Clayton  was  the  successful  publisher  of  a  large  group  of 
pulp-paper  action-adventure  magazines.  At  the  time  there  were,  I 
think,  thirteen.  They  made  a  diverse  family.  Among  them  were  maga¬ 
zines  devoted  to  western,  detective,  air,  war,  love,  and  adventure 
stories— at  least  one  magazine  of  just  about  every  popular  type. 
Routinely  each  month,  the  editors  of  these  and  the  other  magazines 
bought  eye-catching  pictures  for  the  covers  of  their  next  issues,  the 
engraver  made  plates  from  them,  and  the  printer  furnished  final  proof s 
of  them,  all  thirteen  assembled  rectangularly  on  a  single  large  sheet 
of  paper.  On  this  sheet  each  editor  would  initial  his  final  okays,  then 
the  sheet  (or  another  like  it)  would  be  hung  in  Cla3rton’s  office,  allowing 
him  unlimited  opportunity  to  study  it  and  perhaps  incubate  ideas. 

Now,  there  were  blank  places  on  this  sheet.  The  proofs  occupied 
places  arranged  in  four  rows  of  four  columns  each,  only  thirteen  of 
the  sixteen  places  being  filled.  This  meant  that  month  after  month 
three  of  the  sixteen  places  would  stare  empty  at  Clayton,  in  effect  re¬ 
proving  him  for  not  having  three  more  magazines  so  that  they  need 
not  be  empty.  I  venture  i?)on  certainty  when  I  say  that  Clayton  on 
looking  at  this  sheet  would  often  have  these  particular  money-lustful 
thoughts;  “If  I  had  sixteen  magazines  I’d  get  the  three  additional 
covers  cheap. ..the  paper  for  the  covers,  now  going  wasted,  would  be 
free. ..there  would  be  very  little  added  charge  for  press  time...”  The 
empty  places  would  continually  have  urged  him  to  have  one  to  three 
more  magazines.  If  the  sales  of  an  additional  magazine  reached  only 
the  usual  break-even  point,  there  would  still  be  a  profit  from  its 
absorption  of  its  fraction  of  the  general  overhead— and  for  a  while 
there  would  not  be  any  editorial  cost,  for  he’d  just  toss  it  to  Bates, 
who  would  merely  work  double. 


HARRY  BATES 


So  much  for  backgroimd.  Perhaps  you  have  begun  to  see  that  the 
aforementioned  lust  was  a  normal  one  on  the  part  of  Clayton  for  more 
profits.  It  is  the  rearward  workings  of  the  repulsion  felt  by  the  other 
party,  that  made  the  conception  beautiful. 

One  day  Cla3rton’s  secretary  summoned  me  to  his  office,  where  I 
found  the  controller  of  the  company  with  him,  both  looking  at  me  in  a 
special  way  as  I  crossed  the  wide-open  spaces.  The  controller  had  an 
idea  for  a  new  magazine,  one  devoted  to  period- adventure  stories, 
Clayton  told  me  pleasantly;  he’d  even  thought  up  a  name  for  it:  Torch¬ 
lights  of  History.  Here  were  two  shocks  in  one,  bang  bang. 

However,  I  bad  had  much  experience  of  shocks  in  that  office,  and 
upon  collecting  my  wits  I  at  once  began  vigorously  to  defend  myself, 
making  a  strong  case  for  not  publishing  a  period  magazine  and  concen¬ 
trating  on  the  objection  that  it  would  be  next  to  impossible  for  the 
editor  to  get  enough  good  or  even  so-so  stories  for  it.  (By  reflex,  like 
the  duck  of  a  boxer,  I  spoke  as  if  someone  else  was  to  be  stuck  with 
the  magazine.)  Cla3rton  heard  me  and  pleasantly  but  like  a  steam  roller 
suggested  that  I  spend  an  hour  or  so  thinking  it  over.  In  a  rearguard 
action  I  attacked  the  awful  name,  at  which  he  naturally  suggested  that 
I  find  a  better.  All  this  time  the  controller  said  nothing;  just  looked 
at  me  in  the  manner  of  a  benign  bestower  of  something  valuable,  free. 
I  saw  that  Clayton  was  not  to  be  stopped  from  having  another  magazine, 
and  I  left  his  office  dismayed  and  a  little  angry.  It  seemed  to  be  be¬ 
coming  a  habit,  his  giving  me  his  more  difficult  and  sometimes  im¬ 
possible  editorial  assignments. 

I  have  particularized  the  lust  and  repulsion  of  the  two  parties.  I 
come  now  to  my  Trick— the  clever,  sneaky  Trick  by  which  Clayton’s 
lust  was  diverted,  my  repulsion  subverted,  and  the  fabric  of  the  future 
frazzled.  But  first  I  have  to  give  a  last  bit  of  background. 

It  was  a  conditioned  reflex  of  the  pulp  publishers  and  editors  of 
those  days  to  scan  the  magazines,  when  passing  a  newsstand.  When 
the  display  was  a  large  one,  the  scanning  tended  to  become  standing 
and  thinking  (and  perhaps  exulting  or  worrying).  With  some,  part  of 
the  thinking  would  on  occasion  be  a  groping  to  discover  a  type  of  maga¬ 
zine  not  yet  being  offered  to  the  public.  To  a  publisher  in  Clayton’s 
position,  such  gropings  amounted  to  a  hunt  for  gold.  He  already  had 
all  the  obvious  types:  what  exploitable  one— or  three— remained? 

I,  editor  of  his  adventure  magazine,  had  like  all  others  of  my  kind 
been  a  reflexive  studier-of-newsstand-displays— so  presently,  as  I  sat 
at  bay  behind  my  desk  “thinking  it  over,®  there  popped  up  the  memory 
of  a  certain  magazine  of  large  size  whose  covers  invariably  were 
chock-full  of  preposterous  machinery  and  colored  rays  and  monstrous 
or  monstrously  dressed  creatures  doing  things.  Amazing  Stories  1 
Once  I  had  bought  a  copy.  What  awful  stuff,  I’d  found  it!  Cluttered 
with  trivial  Packed  with  puerilities.  Written  by  unimaginables I  But 
now  at  the  memory  I  wondered  if  there  might  be  a  market  for  a  well- 
written  magazine  on  the  Amazing  themes,  and  in  my  desperation,  faced 
with  an  obligation  to  provide  for  a  dubious  magazine  a  continuous  flow 


EDITORIAL  NUMBER  ONE 


xi 

of  stories  that  did  not  exist,  I  sold  myself  on  possibilities.  Perhaps  I 
could  get  Clayton  to  let  me  start  a  magazine  of  the  science-monster 
type,  instead!  I  thought  it  should  not  be  too  difficult  to  obtain  the  stories. 

I  prepared  for  a  battle.  First,  I  went  otit  and  boi^ht  a  copy  of  the 
current  Amazing  and  looked  it  over.  Then  I  thought  up  possible  names. 
I  put  numbers  in  front  of  the  names,  in  the  order  of  my  estimate  of 
their  value.  I  assembled  possible  arguments  for  and  against  the  better 
ones,  preparing  to  put  over  a  particular  one  against  possible  resistance. 
I  studied  each  story  in  the  copy  I’d  bought,  preparing  for  arguments 
on  content. 

Next  morning  I  pumped  myself  full  of  combativeness  and  charged 
into  Clayton’s  office.  It  was  ^1  as  easy  as  pie!  There’d  be  no  Torch¬ 
lights  of  History!  Instead,  there’d  be  an  action- adventure  Astounding 
Stories  of  Super-Science!  I  was  to  get  ri^t  to  work  on  it. 

As  I  walked  back  through  the  corridor  I  was  a  little  drunk,  from  the 
charge  of  fighting  juices  I’d  not  used  up.  I  could  have  used  those  juices 
later,  on  occasions  when  I  lay  exhausted,  licking  my  wounds.  I  had 
made  a  big  mistake.  In  my  revulsion  against  the  foreseen  difficulty  of 
obtaining  good  stories  for  the  one  magazine,  I  had  underappraised  the 
similar  but  greater  difficulty  I  would  have  with  the  other. 

I  had  better  interrupt  the  obstetrics  of  my  history  to  tell  how  the 
name  Astounding  Stories  of  Super-Science  was  chosen.  It  was  aprocess 
of  elimination.  I  had  thought  up  about  a  dozen  possible  names.  Of 
them  all,  the  one  I  liked  best  was  Tomorrow,  but  I  didn’t  even  show 
this  one  to  Clayton,  because  it  was  too  mild  and  indefinite  and  sort  of 
highbrow.  My  second  preference  was  Science  Fiction,  which  was 
generic  and  like  the  other  had  dignity,  but  I  killed  this  one  with  argu¬ 
ments  that  as  aphrase  hardly  anyone  had  ever  seen  or  heard  it  (Amaz¬ 
ing  preferring  the  horrible  “scientifiction”)  and  that  as  a  name  it 
would  promise  only  mild  and  orthodox  stories  concerned  with  today’s 
science.  In  time,  the  name  would  come  to  be  known  and  associated 
with  the  stories,  of  course — but  there  might  not  time.  The  maga¬ 
zine  could  easily  die  of  lack  of  readers  before  this  happened. 

It  was  my  third  preference  which  I  advocated:  Astounding.  As  a 
name  it  lacked  dignity,  but  no  matter:  it  was  gxitsy  and  would  compel 
attention,  and  it  generally  resembled  Amazing  and  could  be  coimted  on 
to  attract  the  eye  of  that  magazine’s  readers  while  pleasantly  promis¬ 
ing  others  that  the  stories  would  stim  them.  It  was  a  little  better  than 
Fantastic  and  much  better  than  Astonishing  and  Future  and  the  re¬ 
maining  ones  on  my  list.  I  think  I  remember  Clayton’s  trying  it  aloud, 
tasting  it.  I  am  not  sure  that  the  rest  of  the  name  was  decided  that 
morning,  but  I  can  tell  you  the  reasons  for  our  choice,  “of  Science 
Fiction”  would  in  time  have  become  redimdant.  “of  Super-Science” 
was  perfect.  The  word  Science  was  in  it,  also  that  great  promiser  of 
extras:  Super.  As  a  phrase,  the  flavor  was  a  trifle  vulgar,  but  the 
meaning  was  right  on  the  beam.  Super-Science  means  above  and  more 
than  science.  The  science  fiction  of  the  early  writers  was  indeed 
above  and  more  than  science. 


HARRY  BATES 


(To  state  it  bluntly,  the  science  fiction  of  the  early  writers  had  little 
relation  to  the  science  of  the  scientists.  However,  it  had  as  much  re¬ 
lation  as  it  has  had  since,  in  the  main.  The  extrapolations  of  most 
science  fiction  writers  rocket  starward  from  pads  much  too  narrow 
and  rickety.  If  the  writers  were  solidly  grounded  in  the  sciences,  and 
if  they  were  aware  of  the  intermeshings  of  the  sciences,  and  if  each 
one  had  a  stiff  conscience,  the  re ’d  be  very  little  science  fiction  written. 
Literally,  most  writers  would  not  be  able  to  finish  a  story,  from  guilty 
awareness  of  the  piling  up  of  related  things  that  were  scientifically 
incompatible.  However,  it  happens  that  each  member  of  the  species 
has  a  permissive  conscience  which  allows  the  id  it  should  be  shushing 
to  march  about  yelling:  “Extrapolate  sit — relate  no  I*  And  extrapolate 
they  do— far  and  unconscionably.  Zing,  in  one  second  they’re  in  the 
middle  of  a  science-silly  but  awfully  science-seeming  culture  in 
Andromeda.  Far,  far  from  any  entangling  alliances  with  the  science 
of  Earth.  Way  way  out.  This  is  perfectly  okay:  I  am  just  pointing  to 
the  misleading  use  of  a  name.  The  naked  fact  is,  almost  all  of  what  is 
called  science  fiction  is  fantasy  and  nothing  else  but.  This  has  increas¬ 
ingly  come  to  be  recognized,  but  when  I  began  privately  saying  so, 
near  the  beginning,  I  would  get  arguments.  Do  you  aging  buffs  really 
think  there  is  more  science  in  science  fiction  nowadays?  Do  you 
really  think  the  stories  are  less  impossible?  Of  course  they  are  better 
written,  many  of  them,  and  more  thought-provoking,  some  of  them — 
but  science?  Hurrah  for  our  honest  old  Super-Science!) 

Back  to  the  obstetrics.  You  say:  “But  if  your  account  of  the  con¬ 
ception  and  naming  is  correct,  how  do  you  explain  the  claims  of  Harold 
Hersey  and  Douglas  Dold?”  Ten  days  ago  I  could  not  have  explained 
them.  Since  then  I’ve  thought  up  a  possibility  or  two. 

You’ve  long  known  about  the  birds  and  the  bees ,  and  probably  you’ve 
learned  that  an  ovum  can  be  impregnated  by  one  spermatozoon  only. 
Well,  I  now  hold  it  possible  that  there  were  three  sperms  active  in  the 
conceiving  of  Astounding.  Hersey,  a  Clayton  editor  up  to  the  fall  of 
1927,  may  have  provided  a  Sperm  No.  1.  I  arrived  at  Clayton’s  a  few 
days  after  Hersey  departed,  and  I  never  met  him,  but  there’s  no  doubt 
he  often  stood  looking  at  newsstand  displays  and  sometimes  passed  on 
with  persisting  visions  of  Amazing  science-monsters,  and  it  is  possible 
he  passed  on  to  Clayton  a  vision  of  a  new  habitat  for  such  monsters. 
Dold  being  a  fellow-editor,  it  is  possible  he  similarlyprovidedaSperm 
No,  2.  It  is  possible  these  two  men  or  sperms  talked  over  the  idea 
with  each  other.  It  is  certain  Dold  never  at  any  time  touched  on  the 
idea  with  me,  nor  did  anyone  else,  including  of  course  Clayton.  (For 
completeness,  it  should  be  lightly  mentioned  that  Clayton,  too,  may 
have  provided  a  sperm,  for  he,  a  prime  looker-at-newsstands,  must 
sometimes  himself  have  passed  on  with  persisting  visions  of  Amazing 
science-monsters.)  From  these  several  facts  and  possibilities  we 
may  hypothesize  that  we  have  here  three  sperms  bent  on  seducing  one 
ovum:  those  of  Hersey,  Dold,  and  Bates  (with  a  bon  voyage  from 
Clayton).  If  this  was  the  case,  you  have  seen  that  none  but  Bates’  had 


EDITORIAL  NUMBER  ONE  xiii 

the  vigor  and  I  might  say  know-how  to  conquer  it.  If  it  is  objected  that 
three  conceptual  sperms  cannot  seduce  one  conceptual  ovum,  a  suffi¬ 
cient  answer  is,  it  is  an  historic  fact  that  the  cause  of  the  journeys  of 
the  sperms  was  the  science-monsters  on  the  covers  of  Amazing,  and 
it  is  an  historic  fact  that  the  result  of  the  journeys  of  the  sperms 
was  their  spawn  of  science-monsters  on  the  covers  of  Astounding.  (I 
had  better  state  firmly  that  the  ovum  of  which  I  speak  was  perhaps  a 
maidenly  fleck  of  fluttery-and-willing  antimatter  waiting  hopefully 
among  a  pod  of  non-existing  neutrinos  in  the  nothing-space  of  the 
Seventh  Dimension  of  the  galaxy  Iglooeron — inside-out-and-crossways 
of  course  the  space  in  front  of  the  cover  proof  sheet  in  Clayton’s 
office.  Every  publisher’s  office  is  a  way  station  for  the  tele-  and 
ideopathic  spread  of  the  non- stuff  of  terato logical  as  well  as  standard 
thoughts .) 

At  the  time  of  the  accouchement  Dold  was  no  longer  a  Clayton  editor 
(although,  as  I  recall,  his  name  remained  on  the  masthead  of  his 
former  magazine  as  a  consultant).  However,  then  and  later  he  was 
often  in  to  see  us,  pleased  with  the  new  baby.  He  got  two  or  three  of 
his  friends  to  submit  pablum  for  it — among  them  Murray  Leinster, 
thank  heaven. 

This  is  all  I  know  and  think  possible  about  the  birth  of  Astounding. 
I  don’t  see  how  more  than  one  of  the  sperms  could  have  been  the  actual 
conqueror;however,  bothof  the  others  could  have  contributed  something 
secondary  but  helpful,  like,  say,  opening  the  door  of  the  bedroom,  and, 
perhaps,  cheering.  As  for  the  name,  it  is  an  obvious  one,  whose  choice 
by  anyone  would  be  inevitable. 

No  doubt  there  will  be  an  underprivileged  outlander  among  you  who 
will  wonder  at  such  particularizing  of  a  topic  so  seeming  petty.  The 
lordly  answer  to  this  is,  Sir,  everything  about  Astoimding  is  a  cause  of 
wonder.  Astounding  was  bloom  and  seed  of  wonder!  A  more  useful 
answer  is,  that  to  many  fan-jets  of  the  time,  and  even  later,  the  con¬ 
ception  has  been  an  itch  and  a  mystery  and  is  not  petty  at  all.  Loving 
your  wife— if  where  you  come  from  you  have  a  two-sex  attraction- 
repulsion  setup— would  you  not  prefer  to  know  whom  her  parents  were? 
It  is  only  reasonable.  But  Earth’s  Super-Sciencers  may  be  super- 
reasonable;  they  are  super-lovers;  they  are  super-supers;  they  outcalif 
California!  They  are  famous  for  scratching  itches  and  mysteries. 
Although  for  nearly  all  of  the  past  thirty  years  I  have  been  as  on  another 
planet,  requests  for  the  story  have  reached  me. 

There  have  also  been  requests  for  the  story  of  Astoimding’ s  early 
years— history — problems— anecdotes— anything. 

My  biggest  difficulty,  and  a  never-ending  one,  was  the  obtaining  of 
suitable  stories.  Clayton  and  I  agreed  that  story  elements  of  action 
and  adventure  were  necessary  for  Astounding’s  survival  (as  they  were 
of  almost  all  of  his  pulps).  We  could  think  of  fewer  than  half  a  dozen 
fair-to-good  pulp  writers  who  had  ever  written  stories  of  the  kind  we 
wanted,  but  we  never  doubted  that  some  of  my  adventure  writers  could 
produce  them.  However,  I  at  once  found  myself  locked  in  a  continuing 


xiv 


HARRY  BATES 


struggle  with  nearly  every  one  whom  I  induced  to  try.  Most  of  them  were 
almost  Mdiolly  ignorant  of  science  and  technology,  so  much  of  what  even¬ 
tually  got  into  their  stories  had  in  one  way  or  another  to  be  put  there  by 
myself.  I  spent  endless  time  dictating  letters  to  them  (also  of  course 
to  others) — and  then  to  me  eventually  would  come  stories  that  were 
cripples.  I  did  very  much  rewriting.  Parts  of  story  after  story  went 
heavily  interlined  to  the  printer.  When  I  dared,  I  sent  the  stories  back 
to  the  writers  for  the  fixing,  but  even  if  they  could  do  it,  and  did,  this 
required  the  sending  of  long  letters  of  detailed  instructions,  often  in¬ 
cluding  brief  lectures  on  some  aspect  of  science,  or  saving  ideas,  in¬ 
vented  at  the  moment.  The  time  all  this  took  I  And  the  little  return! 

I  daily  faced  a  danger  which  you  would  not  be  likely  to  think  of:  the 
alienation  of  prospective  suppliers  of  stories.  Most  of  my  draftees 
wrote  with  uncertainty  and  risk  and  some  reluctance,  and  had  to  endure 
the  indignity  of  reworking  their  stories  or  seeii^  me  put  patches  on 
them:  how  much  of  this  would  they  stand?  Each  had  a  point  at  which 
he  would  quit  trying  to  write  the  science  stuff.  I  therefore  had  to 
watch  like  a  hen  with  ducklings,  near  a  puddle— e:q)laining,  encourag¬ 
ing,  mollifying,  and  helping — alert  for  incipient  defections,  intent  first 
on  holding  them.  It  could  happen — and  did — that  a  rejection  caused  me 
the  loss  of  a  writer  who  might  in  time  have  become  a  fair  source  of 
supply.  Where  else  might  they  sell  a  story  that  I  turned  down?  These 
were  not  young  fans  and  amateurs,  but  professionals.  They  had  to 
make  a  living.  Not  infrequently  I  bought  unwanted  stories  only  in  the 
hope  of  getting  better  ones  later,  or  just  to  have  something  to  print  on 
pages  which  without  them  would  have  gone  blank.  Did  you  ever  buy  a 
copy  of  a  magazine  containing  empty  pages  and  an  editor’s  apology 
that  he  could  not  find  enough  good  stories  to  fill  them  ?  Much  more 
often  than  you  might  think,  editors  knowingly  fill  out  their  issues  with 
indifferent  or  inferior  stories.  Issue  by  issue,  all  do  the  best  they 
can— with  never  a  blank  page. 

Today,  when  there  exists  a  relatively  large  body  of  specialist  writers, 
editors  enjoy  the  ineffable  luxury  of  being  able  merely  to  send  back  and 
forget  the  poor  submissions,  not  having  to  try  to  salvage  them  and 
their  authors— and  they  still  publish  some  clinkers,  every  one  of  them, 
and  every  one  of  them  knows  it. 

This  writing  has  unchained  fierce  memories! 

What  would  have  happened  if  I’d  not  performed  birth  control  on  Torch¬ 
lights  of  History?  The  next  few  years  would  in  some  ways  have  been  very 
different.  There  would  have  been  no  Astounding  as  we  knew  it,  and  when 
an  Astounding  did  appear  (for  an  sf  magazine  of  that  name  certainly 
would  have  appeared)  it  woxzld  have  had  another  and  different  history. 
And  so  would  one  or  more  departments  of  each  of  your  lives,  and  mine. 

(Later,  Torchlights  of  History  got  itself  bom  after  all!  Under  a 
more  suitable  name,  it  issued  as  a  bimonthly,  its  appearances  alter¬ 
nating  with  those  of  another  bimonthly.  Strange  Tales,  whose  chief 
merit  was  that  it  too  helped  fiU  the  monthly  cover  proof  sheet.  I  found 
myself  editor  of  both.  I  was  positively  a  magnet  for  Clayton’s  difficult 


EDITORIAL  NUMBER  ONE  xv 

and  “different”  magazines.) 

You  should  know  that  there  were  not  enough  science  fiction  converts 
to  support  the  early  Astounding.  Amazing  and  Wonder  paid  their 
writers  chiefly  in  the  glory  of  seeing  their  names  in  print  and  just 
managed  to  squeak  along  with  the  same  single  small  body  of  readers. 
We  expected  these  readers  to  buy  Astounding,  and  apparently  almost 
all  of  them  did,  but  there  were  by  no  means  enough  to  support  a  maga¬ 
zine  which  paid  its  writers  then,  near  the  bottom  of  the  Depression, 
almost  twice  what  writers  are  paid  now,  in  this  time  of  high  prosperity. 
We  hoped  to  capture  a  sufficient  number  of  readers  of  the  other  Clayton 
magazines,  and  we  very  nearly  did  so. 

Astounding  was  conceived  in  the  weeks  just  preceding  the  1929  stock 
market  crash;  it  was  born  in  the  beginning  of  the  Depression;  it  neither 
lost  nor  gained  weight  as  the  Depression  dropped  to  its  bottom.  In 
none  of  those  months  did  it  pay  a  profit.  But  in  most  of  those  months 
it  nearly  broke  even,  and  it  did  this  while  paying  its  writers  a  decent 
minimiun  of  two  cents  a  word  on  acceptance.  Practically  all  the  pulps 
then  paid  one  cent,  or  half  a  cent,  or  even  a  tenth  of  a  cent,  and  a  good 
many  of  them  paid  on  publication  (which  meant,  paid  months  or  even 
years  after  the  stories  were  “bought,”  and  in  fact  in  some  cases  meant 
not  paid  at  all,  unless  the  writer  threatened  to  sue). 

You  who  were  the  demon  fan- letter  writers  were  not  very  helpful  to 
us  as  guides.  You  were  indiscriminately  enraptured  with  everything! 
Some  of  you  clamored  for  occasional  stories  of  the  kind  appearing  in 
Amazing,  but  we  knew  that  large  numbers  of  the  other  readers  would 
have  been  repelled  by  them.  You  still  say  that  certain  of  Amazing’s 
stories  were  classics?  Okay,  I  take  your  word  for  it . .  .ITl  tell  you  a 
secret.  Eventually  I  tried  to  get  a  couple  of  hybrids  combining  the 
most  conspicuous  qualities  of  Astounding  and  Amazing,  but  I  failed. 
It  seemed  we  could  not  make  them  mix . .  .ITl  tell  you  something  else, 
not  a  secret,  but  something  you  may  not  have  suspected.  I  welcomed 
stories  with  more  refined  or  scientific  values,  and  when  I  had  the  rare 
luck  to  receive  an  uncrippled  one  I  always  saw  to  it  that  Clayton  ap¬ 
proved  it.  I  still  remember  a  passage  in  a  letter  from  Donald  Wandrei, 
in  response  to  a  lament  from  me:  “Ohdamnthe  too  too  serious  readers! 
The  two  stories  I  liked  best  were  the  humorous  ‘An  Extra  Man'  and  the 
half-poetic  ‘Out  Aroxmd  Rigel.’”  I’ve  long  forgotten  the  stories,  but 
I’ve  not  forgotten  that  passage,  because  those  two  stories  were  exactly 
the  ones  I  too  had  liked  best.  For  me  to  remember  the  passage  exactly, 
as  I  have,  it  would  appear  that  it  hit  me  in  a  place  not  yet  calloused  by 
science  friction. 

Would  you  have  guesseo  that  Clayton  became  a  Super-Science  buff? 
We  both  approved  the  stories  that  were  bought.  I  read  and  readied  the 
stories  first — he  would  usually  come  himself  to  my  office  for  those 
which  had  received  my  okay— and  if  I  were  not  in  he  would  at  times 
take  away  every  story  in  sight,  unread  or  even  rejected!  He  might 
even  do  this  when  I  was  in,  over  my  tactful  resistance. 

During  Astounding’s  first  months  I  sometimes  thought  wryly  that  it 


HARRY  BATES 


xvi 

would  be  easier  on  me  and  perhaps  better  for  the  magazine  If  I  wrote 
all  of  its  stories  myself.  After  a  year,  under  a  pseudonym,  I  experi¬ 
mentally  collaborated  with  Desmond  Hall  (later  my  assistant)  in  the  writ¬ 
ing  of  a  story  which  contained  exactly  the  ingredients  wanted.  Clayton 
was  quite  pleased  with  it,  and  so  was  Mr.  Torchlights  of  History.  Pro¬ 
pelled  by  unknown  forces,  the  latter  read  it  of  hisownaccord— a  pheno¬ 
menon— then  came  spec  tally  to  my  off  ice  to  teU  me  how  much  he  had  en¬ 
joyed  it.  These  office  likings  were  followed  by  loud  reader  approval,  so 
I  collaborated  with  Hall  on  other  stories,  using  two  pseudonyms.  To  in¬ 
sure  against  possible  prejudice  for  or  against  the  stories  I  did  not  dis¬ 
close  to  Clayton  the  real  authors,  and  he  never  knew  I  was  one  of  them, 
but  with  the  first  story  I  took  the  precaution  of  confiding  in  the  con¬ 
troller,  who  okayed  the  irregularity  and  encouraged  me  to  keep  going. 

From  the  beginning  I  had  been  bothered  by  the  seeming  inability  of 
my  writers  to  mix  convincing  character  with  our  not-too-convincing 
science;  so  after  nearly  two  years,  with  the  double  hope  of  furnishing 
the  writers  an  example  of  a  vivid  hero  and  villain  and  my  readers  a 
whopping  hero  versus  villain,  I  generated  the  first  Hawk  Carse  story, 
I  creating  the  characters  and  plot  and  Hall  as  usual  writing  the  basic 
draft.  I  still  remember  Clayton’s  reaction.  Almost  at  once  after  de¬ 
parting  with  it  (it  seemed)  he  was  back  with  it  in  my  office,  a  huge 
encircled  Yes!  on  the  envelope.  I  had  never  seen  him  so  openly  pleased. 
He  commanded  me  to  get  more  of  the  same.  (This  was  not  difficult, 
for  I  had  deliberately  built  it  with  open  ends,  calculated  to  make  the 
readers  cry  for  a  second,  and  third.)  Clayton’s  enthusiasm  for  the 
Hawk  Carse  stories  never  diminished.  I  need  not  remind  you  farthest- 
back  of  the  Faithful  that  you  made  a  terrific  noise  over  them.  Do  you  re¬ 
member  the  great  detective  hunt,  to  discover  who  was  behind  the  pseudo¬ 
nym?  The  letters  to  big-name  writers  asking  if  they  were  the  author? 
H.  G,  Wells!  Were  you  one  of  those  who  stayed  up  nights  comparing 
word  counts,  word  lengths,  word  usages?  All  the  time,  I  was  laughing. 

During  the  last  months  of  the  Clayton  Astounding  we  were  committing 
ourselves  to  plans  which  would  gradually  broaden  our  policy,  but  this 
was  aborted  by  Clayton’s  sudden  and  wholly  unexpected  descent  into 
bankruptcy.  I  shall  not  tell  the  circumstances,  except  to  say  they  were 
not  what  you  would  think.  Street  &  Smith  bought  a  small  but  healthy 
Astounding,  one  ready  at  once  to  show  a  profit  at  their  much  lower 
word  rate,  and  one  for  which  there  was  now  an  almost- sufficient  body 
of  somewhat  worn  writers  and  a  just-emerging  group  of  fresh,  young, 
potent,  potential  writers,  all  of  them  fan  condensate, 

AstcWding  was  a  living  being.  I  served  it  in  its  infancy  and  child- 
hood,  Orlin  Tremaine  brought  it  through  youth  and  adolescence,  John 
Campbell  guided  it  through  adulthood  and  maturity.  If  it  grew  old,  so 
do  all  living  things  grow  old.  It  had  a  long,  full,  and  honorable  life. 

Farewell,  you  once  vociferous  and  always  effervescing  and  I  hope 
forever  mad  lovers  of  Astounding! 

Know  that  it  was  you  of  the  thirty  millions  of  words  who  made 
Astounding  a  thing  of  wonder. 


EDITORIAL  NUMBER  TWO 


r.  ORLIN  TREMAINE  (1899-1956) 


"in  absentia” 


I  believe  we  can  safely  call  the  years  1933-37  the  first 
golden  age  of  science  fiction.  It  came  alive  in  those  years 
and  laid  a  fovindation  for  much  of  its  present  popularity  as 
a  story  medium.  But,  more  important,  the  individual 
enthusiasm  of  its  supporting  fans  has  not  lessened.  I  have 
had  reason  to  be  proud  of  the  large  number  of  young  men  whose  interest 
has  been  maintained  while  they  became  substantial  citizens,  moving 
into  the  current  of  modern  life  without  confusion  because  they  knew 
what  was  coming  in  the  scientific  field. 

Science  fiction  has  enabled  many  of  us,  who  have  followed  it  through 
the  years,  to  maintain  an  untroubled  poise  in  what  is  too  often  referred 
to  as  a  “troubled  world.”  And  as  newer  generations  grow  up  within  the 
circle  of  our  fictional  forecasts  of  things  to  come  they  learn  to  feel  the 
serenity  which  comes  from  knowledge. 

The  mysterious  doors  of  nature’s  secrets  are  being  opened  to  us  one 
after  another  in  real  life,  and  the  population  at  large  finds  these  reve¬ 
lations  a  little  terrifying.  But  to  those  of  us  who  rode  jet  spaceships  to 
the  planets  in  our  stories  many  years  ago,  there  is  no  surprise  in  the 
actuality  of  jet  planes.  To  those  of  us  who  have  lived  through  interplane¬ 
tary  wars. ..there  is  no  particular  reason  for  surprise  at  the. ..H-bomb. 

The  picture  of  the  science  fiction  field  a  decade  ago  is  not  too  different 
from  that  of  today.  To  compare  the  two  is  like  the  age-old  discussion 
as  to  which  is  the  greatest  figure,  Washington  or  Lincoln.  There’s  no 
solid  basis  for  comparative  measurement.  Each  faced  the  problem  of 
his  day  in  his  own  way  and  made  his  mark.  So  the  science  fiction  of 
1940  faced  the  future  with  a  confidence  which  made  it  open  the  door  to 
the  atom(ic)  age.  The  stories  of  (today)  must  proceed  onward  from 
the  point  of  present  scientific  accomplishment. 

...The  thirties  provided  us  with  many  classics  which  still  hold  their 
fascination  for  modern  readers.  Whether  the  forties  provided  us  with 


xvii 


xviii 


F.  ORLIN  TREMAINE 


many  outstanding  stories  will  be  determined  (by)  how  many  (were) 
remembered  clearly,  pointed  to,  reprinted,  and  referred  to  affection¬ 
ately  (during  the  following  decade,  and  so  forth,  decade  by  decade).... 

Personally,  I  feel  that  we  must  guard  against  bogging  down  in  too 
much  mathematical  science  at  the  expense  of  fictional  interest.  We 
blended  them  successfully  at  the  first,  and  many  of  our  modern  writers 
are  doing  so  now,  but  there  is  a  trend  toward  pedantic  writing  in  some 
cases.  Perhaps  this  is  best  illustrated  by  recalling  the  key  words  of 
the  periods.  In  the  thirties  it  was  the  “Thought  Variant,”  in  the  forties, 
the  “Mutation”  (which,  of  course,  means  the  same  thing)— and  in  the 
early  fifties  it  (was)  “ExtensionalismI”  Well. ..more  syllables. .  .but 
the  principle  (wasn’t)  changed  in  the  slightest! 

When  we  feel  the  urge  to  take  ourselves  too  seriously  we  must  stop 
and  consider  the  fact  that,  just  as  no  nation  has  ever  become  really 
great  until  its  people  learned  to  laugh  at  themselves  now  and  then,  so 
we  must  recognize  a  sense  of  humor  in  science  fiction.  It  was  during 
the  lusty,  growing  years,  the  thirties,  that  Murray  Leinster  came  up 
with  his  “Fourth  Dimensional  Duplicator.”  Remember  it?  When  the 
machine  went  wrong,  and  instead  of  duplicating  a  girl  in  the  fourth 
dimension,  it  kept  duplicating  her  and  her  pet  kangaroo  until  the  yard 
was  overflowing  with  sweethearts  and  kangaroos?  It  didn’t  hurt  us  to 
have  a  good  laugh  at  ourselves  then.  It  wouldn’t  hurt  us  now. 

It’s  to  be  regretted  that  magazine  word- rates  haven’t  kept  pace  with 
the  expanding  audience.  Many  of  our  good  writers  have  been  forced  in 
self-defence  to  turn  to  the  general  magazine  field  for  basic  incomes, 
and  to  write  science  fiction  stories  only  when  they  can  “afford  to  do 
so.”  If  there’s  a  danger  signal  this  is  it,  the  one  and  one-quarter  cent 
per  word  of  the  thirties  should  be  the  three  cent  per  word  for  maga¬ 
zine  rights  only  as  a  basic  rate  in  order  to  maintain  the  quality  of 
writing  we  want  and  need.  Give  our  writers  that  incentive,  and  the 
magazines  will  climb  to  a  new  high.  It  isn’t  impossible  for  us  to  make 
(today  a  part  of)  the  decade  of... a  new  era  of  classics. 

Accept  the  classics  of  the  thirties  as  glorious  in  their  own  right. 
Accept  the  adjustment  of  our  stories  during  (scientific  advancements)... 
Give  them  their  jxist  due,  but  drive  for  the  greatest  decade  of  them  all.... 

...You  and  I  play  a  key  part  in  this  progressive  pattern  as  science 
fiction  outlines  the  things  to  come.  Support  it,  guide  it,  criticize  and 
drive  it  forward. 

The  kinship  of  interest  among  science  fiction  fans  is  a  bond  like  a 
common  language.  Nowhere,  outside  of  our  own  particular  group,  can 
we  talk  as  freely  about  the  things  which  will  happen  tomorrow— just 
as,  fifteen  years  ago  we  were  discussing  scientific  e}q)ectancies  which 
today  are  actualities. 

I  am  proud  to  have  played  a  part  in  the  development  of  science 
fiction,  not  so  much  because  it  meant  editing  a  magazine  as  because  it 
enabled  me  to  become  a  part  of  one  of  the  most  imaginative  and  worth¬ 
while  groups  of  people  now  inhabiting  the  Earth — the  science  fiction 
fans— the  settlers  who  lay  the  foundations  for  the  future. 


EDITORIAL  NUMBER  THREE 


JOHN  W.  CAMPBELL 


"letter  from  the  editor" 


In  being  asked  to  write  an  introduction  to  Requiem,  I  feel 
a  little  like  the  man  who  was  invited  to  his  own  funeral 
and  asked  to  say  a  few  kind  words. 

In  a  sense,  I  don’t  think Ishould.  Requiem  is  an  entertain¬ 
ing  literary  history  but  I  don’t  believe  any  thinking  person 
in  the  audience  is  going  to  mistake  it  for  a  schoiarly  work  of  bibliog¬ 
raphy.  Except,  of  course,  for  the  “Literateurs”— those  library  tribes¬ 
men  who  make  a  profession  of  criticizing  things  they  haven’t  read  by 
studying  what  other  prople  said  about  them  in  books .  They  will,  quite 
naturally,  iearnedly  discourse  on  the  disintegrationof  that  brief  literary 
fad,  science  fiction,  and  quote  this  book  to  prove  it. 

You  don’t  think  so? 

The  modern  set-up  in  “literature”  is  that  the  term  is  restricted  to 
thills  that  meet  the  approval  of  the  small,  self-adulatory  clique  of 
Literateurs  who  have  decided  that  they,  and  they  alone,  are  fit  to  de¬ 
termine  what  is  Good  and  what  is  Worthless.  The  number  of  those  who 
constitute  the  Literateurs  is  remarkably  small — but  they  are  most  re¬ 
markably  effective  in  guiding  the  reactions  of  the  Sheep  of  Suburbia. 
What  they  say  is  Bad,  the  sheep  baah  at  faithfuliy — and  they  can  do  a 
remarkably  effective  job  of  lousing  it  up  commercially.  What  they  say 
is  Good,  the  sheep  ooh  at  and  buy,  even  if  it  has  no  intrinsic  merit. 

The  Literateurs  do  not  like  any  form  of  literature  that  incites  the 
sheep  to  think  for  themselves— which  is  the  avowed  purpose  of  science 
fiction.  They  are,  therefore,  very  ready  to  grasp  any  evidence  that 
science  fiction  is  Bad.  Being  pure  scholars,  lacking  all  sense  of  humor 
themselves,  they  will  see  this  book  as  a  Scholarly  Work  and  react  to  it 
as  such. 

And  don’t  for  a  moment  think  that  they  won’t  know  that  an  introduction 
is  a  stamp-of-approval  on  the  said  Schoiarly  Work  of  Research  and 
Bibliographyl 


xix 


XX 


JOHN  W.  CAMPBELL 


There  is  another  reason  why  I’m  a  little  reluctant  to  write  this  intro¬ 
duction  and  that  is  because  I  think  it  should  be  more  of  a  rebuttal  than 
an  introduction.  Requiem,  I’m  afraid,  may  be  doing  modern  science 
fiction  a  distinct  disservice.  The  readers  are  told,  “Science  fiction 
used  to  be  perfectly  wonderful;  of  course,  it’s  gone  down  hill  terribly 
recently.  And  this  new  Analog  isn’t  anywhere  near  as  good  as  the  old- 
time  Astounding  was.”  Frankly,  most  of  this  kind  of  complaint  boils 
down  to  the  old  refrain  of  “They  don’t  make  ice  cream  sodas  as  good 
as  they  did  when  I  was  a  kid,”  and  “We  don’t  have  winters  like  we  used 
to;  why  I  remember  snowdrifts  clear  up  to  my  shoulders  I”  (And  what 
Alva  is  ^  remembering  is  that,  at  that  time,  his  shoulders  were  about 
three  feet  from  the  ground,  not  five!)  And  he  is  also  unaware  that, 
now  he’s  40-odd,  his  sense  of  taste  isn’t  as  sharp  and  clear  as  it  was 
when  he  was  10.  As  we  age,  unfortunately,  the  bright  mosaic  of  life 
gets  a  little  chipped  and  dulled  around  the  edges. 

Movies  aren’t  as  good,  either;  of  course,  they  don’t  flicker  any  more, 
and  they  have  sound,  but  “they  aren’t  as  funny  as  they  used  to  be.  Why 
Charlie  Chaplin  and  Harold  Lloyd...”  And  there  was  a  time  when  the 
Model  T  Ford  was  the  greatest  piece  of  transportation  the  world  had 
ever  seen,  too.  Man, no  car  I  ever  owned  gave  me  as  much  satisfaction 
as  my  Model  T — believe  me,  these  modern  cars  are  just  no  good.  (11 
was  eleven  years  old  when  I  bought  it  for  twenty  dollars,  and  I  installed 
the  30-minute  bands  myself,  and  1  was  seventeen— which  might  possibly 
have  something  to  do  with  my  evaluation.) 

What  this  book  is,  actually,  is  “A  Requiem  For  My  Youth.”  And  I 
know  that  it’s  tough  to  admit  it,  I  appreciate  the  fact  that  the  “Sense 
of  Wonder”  has,  indeed,  been  lost  for  many  old-time  fans.  The  reason 
is  three-fold:  they  aren’t  young,  enthusiastic  and  open-minded  as  they 
once  were.  You  know.  A,  age  50,  says  that  B,  age  16,  is  “naive  and 
unsophisticated,”  while  C,  age  30,  may  say  that  A  is  closed-minded, 
while  B  is  young  and  open-minded.  They’re  both  saying  the  same  thing 
—but  simply  with  different  emphasis !  They  mean  that  B  will  listen  to 
a  new  idea,  consider  it  possible  and  intriguing,  and  try  to  develop  it 
mentally  himself. 

It  should  be  obvious,  of  course,  that  “you  can’t  go  home  again,” 
Could  “Skylark  of  Space”  be  published,  as  a  brand-new  work,  today? 
No,  it  could  not.  The  present  readers,  without  previous  indoctrination 
that  Skylark  is  a  classic,  would  see  that  the  love  interest  was  poured 
from  the  syrup  bottle,  the  science  was  nonsense,  and,  as  E.  E.  Smith 
said,  the  whole  thing  is  indefensible.  You  think  “Hawk  Carse”  could 
get  published  today?  Why  not?  Well,  the  science  stunk,  the  whole 
thing  was  wildly  improbable,  it  was  made  up  of  cliches,  it  had  no 
characterizations,  and  it  was  all  black-white-good-evil- yes-no-without- 
evaluation  nonsense.  Totally  unacceptable  after  “The  World  of  A.” 

The  readers  of  today  are  far  too  sophisticated  lor  stories  patterned 
after  the  classics  of  yesterday.  The  men  who  wrote  the  stories  in  the 
forties  lifted  the  level  of  science  fiction  tremendously.  That  had  two 
effects:  it  made  it  a  more  satisfying  and  powerful  influence  on  readers 


EDITORIAL  NUMBER  THREE 


—which  expanded  the  readership  in  the  field— and  it  made  it  enormously 
tougher  for  the  yoimger  would-be  writers  to  start  writing  in  the  field. 
Most  of  the  writers  who  had  their  first  appearances  before  1940  were 
under  twenty-five — a  number  in  their  teens.  (Myself,  for  instance.) 

Writers  trying  to  break  into  the  field  at  that  age  now  don’t  have  the 
experience  and  the  polish  required — the  standards  have  been  made 
much  tougher  by  the  men  who  developed  the  field  in  the  forties  and 
fifties.  So  it’s  a  damn  sight  harder  for  me  to  get  good,  new,  young 
authors . 

So  what  about  the  Great  Old  Authors  (please  remember  that  1940  was 
almost  a  quarter  century  ago)?  Well,  they’re  convinced  that  they  al¬ 
ready  know  how  to  write  and  aren’t  gonna  be  told  what  they  should  write 
by  that  dictatorial,  authoritarian,  uncooperative  Campbell.  They  aren’t 
going  to  sell  their  immortal  birthright  of  Great  Authorhood  for  any 
mess  of  dollars !  And  granted  that  the  Sense  of  Wonder  is  gone,  in 
large  part,  because  the  Old  Fans  are  old  now.  But  the  Great  Old  Authors 
are  old,  too!  Most  of  them  got  their  scientific  orientation  back  in  the 
early  thirties,  and  they’ve  been  running  on  it  ever  since.  How  many  of 
them  are  in  contact  with  actual  research  work  being  done  today— and 
getting  the  feel  for  the  major  direction  of  science  now?  Who’s  done 
any  extrapolation  of  the  possibilities  of  super  conductive  systems,  for 
instance? 

They  know  that  science  fiction  is  about  rocket  ships— so  they  persist 
in  using  rocket  ships  in  stories  of  the  centuries -hence  future,  when  it’s 
perfectly  obvious  the  damn  things  are  hopelessly  inefficient  and  im¬ 
practical  as  useful  transportation.  And  the  Great  Old  Authors  will 
recognize  that  we’ve  already  told  those  stories;  that  we’ve  already 
exercised  our  Sense  of  Wonder  wondering  about  those  ideas. 

Will  somebody  tell  me  why  the  Great  Old  Authors  will  not  get  off 
their  literary  tails  and  consider  something  new?  They  hate  me  for 
shoving  new  concepts  and  new  ideas  at  them — and  damn  me  for  their 
lack  of  a  Sense  of  Wonder! 

The  world  rolls  on  and  we  either  roll  with  it  of  get  left  behind  to 
mumble  about  the  Good  Old  Days.  If  you  think  science  fiction  is  getting 
dull,  it  just  possibly  could  be  you.  And  I’ve  got  a  pretty  good  idea  of 
what’s  wrong  but  I  don’t  know  of  anything  that  can  be  done  about  it. 

I  don’t  know  of  anybody  who’s  growing  any  yoimger .... 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 


Any  project  as  big  and  as  comprehensive  as  this  Requiem, 
naturally  has  a  good  many  people  working  quietly  beyond 
the  sidelines,  adding  their  assistance  for  the  success  of  the 
overall  effort.  The  proprietors  of  Advent;  Publishers  wish 
to  express  their  gratitude  to  those  individuals  whose  un¬ 
selfish  cooperation  aided  immeasurably  in  the  production  of  this  volume. 
William  Donaho  and  Viper,  Richard  Lupoff,  and  Sam  Moskowitz. 
Harry  Bates,  for  his  unprecedented  encouragement,  information, 
assistance,  understanding,  and  unselfish  appreciation  of  “love.” 

John  W.  Campbell,  for  all  the  years  of  adamant  devotion  in  the  face 
of  unspeakable  misconceptions  simply  to  furnish  so  many  of  us  so 
much  to  love  and  cherish.  II  it  were  possible  for  us,  as  publishers,  to 
affix  an  additional  dedication  to  this  Requiem,  it  would  be  to  John  W. 
Campbell,  “in  deepest  understanding  and  heartfelt  appreciation.”  But 
more  than  that,  for  the  letters  and  the  penetrating,  painful  truth,  for 
taking  the  time  when  there  was  none  available  to  allow  Advent  to  send 
him  a  copy  of  the  manuscript,  and  for  reading  that  copy  for  errors. 
For  the  telephone  calls  and  a  newer  viewpoint  and  a  rain-check  payable 
in  empathy. 

Alex  Eisenstein,  for  the  title  page  and  dust  wrapper  design. 
Richard  and  Rosemary  Hickey,  for  givii^  \q)  a  quiet  evening  in  order 
to  furnish  the  photographs  that  illustrate  this  volume. 

Frank  M.  Robinson,  for  anonymous  services  above  and  beyond  the 
caU  of  duty. 

Alva  Rogers,  for  everythii^  and  the  payola  Margaritas. 

Sidonie  Rogers,  for  allowing  us  to  create  a  very  tired  man. 

Ann  Schuneman,  for  editorial  services  rendered. 

James  V.  Taurasi,  Sr.  and  Science  Fiction  Times,  Inc.,  for  per¬ 
mission  to  reprint  excerpts  from  two  articles  by  F.  Orlin  Tremaine: 
“World  of  Tomorrow  Today”  (issue  No.  100,  2nd  February,  1950,  Vol. 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 


xxiii 


5  No.  4)  and  “A  Decade  in  STF"  (issue  No.  138,  2nd  September,  1951, 
Vol.  6  No.  18). 

F.  Orlin  Tremaine;  Hall!  the  rest  “of  the  most  Imaginative  and 
worth-while”  groiq)  salutes  your  job  well  done. 

Edward  Wood,  for  his  many  enlightening  comments  as  a  result  of 
double-checking  the  final  version  of  the  Requiem  manuscript  for  Advent, 
for  making  his  Astounding  collection  available  for  all  the  illustrative 
matter  in  this  volume, Tor  researching  special  contents,  and  other 
niunerous  consultations. 

And  especially  to  The  Conde  Nast  Publications,  Inc.  and  Mr.  Paul 
H.  Bonner,  Jr.  for  their  very  kind  assistance  and  enthusiastic  wishes 
for  this  project,  as  well  as  their  gracious  permission  to  reproduce  all 
the  artwork  from  Astounding  in  this  Requiem.  The  artwork  is  covered 
by  copyright  in  one  or  more  of  the  following: 

COVERS: 

Publisher’s  Fiscal  Corporation,  1930 
January,  1930 
Readers  Guild,  Inc.,  1931 
May,  1931 

Cla3rton  Magazines,  Inc.,  1933 
March,  1933 

Street  &  Smith  Publications,  Inc.,  1934,  1935,  1938,  1939,  1941,  1942, 
1943,  1945 
February,  1934 
August,  1934 
November,  1935 
March,  1938 
December,  1938 
February,  1939 
April,  1939 
October,  1939 
March,  1941 
January,  1942 
May,  1943 
May,  1945 

INTERIORS: 

Various  logos  including  the  progressive  change  from  Astounding  to 
Analog. 

House  advertisement,  November,  1933 
Readers  Guild,  Inc.,  1931 
October,  1931;  page  24 
Clayton  Magazines,  Inc.,  1932 
i^ril,  1932;  pages  20-21 

Street  &  Smith  Publications,  Inc.,  1934,  1935,  1936,  1937,  1938,  1939, 
1940,  1941,  1942,  1943,  1947,  1948,  1949,  1950 
Jiily,  1934;  page  61 


ADVENT:  PUBLISHERS 


September,  1934;  pages  30-31 
October,  1934;  page  58 
January,  1935;  pages  124-125 
November,  1936;  page  23 
^ril,  1937;  page  35 
July,  1938;  page  134 
July,  1939;  pages  148-149 
October,  1939;  page  9 
March,  1940;  page  122 
February,  1941;  page  132 
June,  1941;  page  65 
December,  1941;  page  25 
April,  1942;  page  79 
December,  1942;  page  87 
June,  1943;  page  47 
June,  1947;  pages  32-33 
April,  1948;  page  31 
Jime,  1949;  page  29 
December,  1949;  page  7 
April,  1950;  pages  76-77 

Last  of  all,  in  humble  gratitude,  to  Astounding  and  Analog 
THE  KING  IS  DEAD  I 


LONG  LIVE  THE  KING! 


A  Requiem  for  Astounding 


CHAPTER  I 


THE  BEGINNING;  CLAYTON  ASTOUNDING  1930-1933 


Science  fiction  magazines  as  we  know  them  had  their 
beginnings  with  Amazing  Stories  in  April,  1926.  This 
first  of  the  all  science  fiction  magazines  was  the  inspired 
brainchild  of  Hugo  Gernsback,  scientist,  inventor,  prophet 
of  scientific  wonders  to  come,  and  publisher.  Prior  to  that 
date,  science  fiction  was  found  only  in  books  and  in  a  few  general  fiction 
magazines  identified  for  those  looking  for  it  by  such  labels  as;  scientific 
romances,  imaginative  tales,  or  different  stories.  This  last  tag  was 
used  at  times  by  Bob  Davis,  editor  of  Argosy  and  All-Story  Magazine, 
to  distinguish  science  fiction  and  fantasy  from  the  straight  fiction  in 
his  magazines. 

Although  Gernsback  is  rightly  considered  the  father  of  magazine 
science  fiction,  it  would  be  a  mistake  to  ignore  the  great  part  that  Bob 
Davis  played  in  its  development  during  the  teen  years  and  early  twenties. 
In  the  years  before  Amazing  Stories,  Davis  presented  to  an  eagerly 
receptive  audience  the  “Martian”  and  “Tarzan”  novels  of  Edgar  Rice 
Burroughs;  the  immortal  fantasies  of  A.  Merritt,  probably  the  most 
popular  author  ever  to  appear  in  Argosy ;  “The  Girl  inthe  Golden  Atom” 
and  other  science  fiction  tales  of  Ray  Cummings  and  memorable  stories 
and  novels  by  George  Allan  England,  Garrett  P.  Serviss,  J.  U.  Giesy, 
Austin  Hall  and  Homer  Eon  Flint,  Otis  Adelbert  Kline,  Murray  Leinster, 
and  others.  Many  of  these  classics  today  are  regarded  as  fantasies  or 
occult  romances  rather  than  legitimate  science  fiction.  However,  the 
line  was  not  so  finely  drawn  between  fantasy  and  science  fiction  then 
as  today,  and  whether  science  fiction  or  fantasy,  they  were  immensely 
popular  with  their  public. 

It  remained  for  Hugo  Gernsback  to  see  the  potential  in  this  popularity 
and  to  gamble  that  it  would  give  him  a  guaranteed  readership  for  a 
magazine  devoted  exclusively  to  this  type  of  fiction.  The  gamble 
paid  off. 


ALVA  ROGERS 


Amazing  Stories  was  a  little  different  than  the  familiar  pulp  maga¬ 
zine,  being  a  large  size,  8-1/2  x  11  inches  with  96  pages  of  heavy  pulp 
stock,  trimmed  edges,  and  selling  for  twenty-five  cents.  At  first  it 
drew  heavily  on  reprints  of  recognized  authors  and  classics  from  both 
the  book  and  magazine  fields:  H.  G.  Wells,  Jules  Verne,  A.  Merritt, 
George  Allan  England,  Garrett  P.  Serviss,  Edgar  Rice  Burroughs,  Ray 
Cummings,  etc.  It  wasn’t  long,  however,  before  new  writers  came  to 
the  fore  with  new  ideas  developed  with  increasing  confidence  and  the 
revered  classics  of  Verne,  Wells,  and  others  became  old  hat  and  stodgy 
to  the  eager  yoimg  fans  that  made  up  the  bulk  of  Amazing’s  readership. 
David  H.  Keller,  M.D.,  Edmond  Hamilton,  Philip  Francis  Nowlan, 
Stanton  A.  Coblentz,  Edward  Elmer  Smith,  Miles  J.Breuer,  Bob  Olson, 
A.  Hyatt  Verrill,  and  later  John  W.  Campbell,  Jr.,  Jack  Williamson, 
P.  Schuyler  Miller,  to  name  a  few,  all  contributed  mightily  to  the  evo¬ 
lution  of  modern  magazine  science  fiction. 

In  the  late  twenties,  Gernsback  lost  control  of  Amazing  Stories.  Not 
to  be  daunted,  in  June  of  1929  this  indomitable  genius  bounced  back 
with  Science  Wonder  Stories,  a  powerful  competitor  to  his  firstborn 
which  was  being  temporarily  edited  by  Arthur  H.  Lynch  who  would  be 
replaced  in  November  by  the  conservative  near -octogenerianT.  O’Conor 
Sloan,  Ph.D.  For  added  measure,  Gernsback  backed  his  new  entry  up 
with  a  companion  magazine.  Air  Wonder  Stories,  the  very  next  month. 
These  two  magazines  were  eventually  combined  into  one  as  Wonder 
Stories.  Like  Amazing,  Wonder  was  large  size  with 96 pages,  trimmed 
edges,  and  sold  for  twenty-five  cents.  For  several  years  both  maga¬ 
zines  had  companion  quarterlies  which  were  about  twice  the  size  of  the 
monthlies  and  sold  for  fifty  cents;  they  featured  complete  book  length 
novels.  (Gernsback  also  published  Scientific  Detective  Monthly  which 
lasted  from  January,  1930  to  October,  1930  with  a  name  change  to 
Amazing  Detective  Tales  with  the  June  issue .  This  magazine  is  notable 
mainly  for  having  published  a  number  of  “Craig  Kennedy”  scientific 
detective  stories  by  Arthur  B.  Reeve,  who  was  also  editorial  commis¬ 
sioner  of  the  magazine,  and  is  usually  not  considered  a  science  fiction 
magazine.) 

The  term  “science  fiction,”  it  might  be  noted  here,  was  first  used 
by  Hugo  Gernsback  in  the  first  issue  of  Science  Wonder  Stories.  As 
near  as  can  be  determined  this  was  the  first  time  this  particular 
combination  ever  saw  print  anywhere  in  any  magazine.  Until  then  the 
most  popular  term  used  to  describe  the  literature  was  “scientifiction,” 
a  word  coined  by  Gernsback  in  1925  and  originally  intended  as  the  title 
for  what  finally  became  Amazing  Stories .  Scientifiction  in  turn  was  a 
contraction  of  scientific  fiction  which  was  used  extensively  by  Gerns¬ 
back  during  the  early  twenties  to  describe  the  stories  he  ran  as  a 
regular  feature  in  his  magazine  Science  and  Invention.  However,  it 
would  be  almost  nine  years  from  the  launching  of  Science  Wonder 
Stories  before  the  words  science  fiction  would  be  incorporated  into 
the  title  of  a  professional  science  fiction  magazine. 

By  this  time  it  was  evident  to  any  discerning  publisher  that  the 


ja^gwianiMiBWSM 

i;E!Ksa¥MBKaiS{«a»K->M<Siil 


ALVA  ROGERS 


science  fiction  field  would  support  more  than  one  or  two  magazines. 
So,  in  December,  1929  W.  L.  Clayton,  publisher  of  a  chain  of  pulp 
magazines,  introduced  Astounding  Stories  of  Super-Science,  dated 
January,  1930,  edited  by  one  of  his  most  able  editors,  Harry  Bates. 
Also  on  the  editorial  staff  of  the  new  magazine  were  Desmond  Hall  as 
assistant  editor  and  Dr.  Douglas  M.  Dold,  consulting  editor.  Douglas 
Dold  was  the  brother  of  Elliott  Dold,  the  artist  who  would  one  day  be 
regarded  as  one  of  the  greatest  illustrators  in  the  science  fiction  field. 
Douglas  Dold  is  mainly  remembered  as  the  author  of  the  novel  “Valley 
of  Sin”  in  the  April-May,  1931  (the  first)  issue  of  Harold  Hersey’s 
Miracle  Science  and  Fantasy  Stories,  a  magazine  which  saw  only  two 
issues  and  is  today  one  of  the  rarest  of  collector’s  items.  It  has  been 
claimed  by  Elliott  Dold  that  his  brother  Douglas  was  primarily  re¬ 
sponsible  for  inspiring  William  Clayton  to  launch  Astounding  Stories 
of  Super  Science.  Harold  Hersey  has  also  made  this  claim  for  himself. 
However,  during  the  gestation  period  of  the  magazine,  neither  of  these 
men  were  actively  associated  with  Clayton  (although  both  were  ex- 
Clayton  editors),  whereas  Harry  Bates  was,  as  an  editor  of  one  of 
Clayton’s  pulps.  Bates  would  therefore  seem  to  be  the  one  most  likely 
to  have  influenced  Cla3d;on  to  bring  out  Astounding. 

Astounding  Stories  of  Super-Science  was  an  honest-to-goodness  pulp 
magazine  of  the  standard  pulp  size,  6-3/4  x  9-3/4  inches  with  144 
pages  with  imtrimmed  edges.  It  sold  for  twenty  cents  a  copy  and  ap¬ 
peared  on  the  newsstands  the  first  Thursday  of  each  month.  One 
volume  of  the  magazine  was  comprised  of  three  issues  and  the  page 
count  was  continued  consecutively  through  three  issues,  page  1  to  432. 

Astounding  was  unabashedly  an  action  adventure  magazine  and  made 
no  pretense  of  trying  to  present  science  in  a  sugar-coated  form  as  did, 
to  some  extent,  the  other  two  magazines.  The  amount  of  science  foimd 
in  its  pages  was  minimal— just  enough  to  support  the  action  and  little 
more.  Lessons  in  science  could  be  obtained  in  school  or  in  text  books; 
driving  action  and  heroic  adventure  was  what  the  reader  of  Astounding 
wanted.  Interplanetary  wars  and  space  battles,  hideous  and  menacing 
Bug  Eyed  Monsters  (fondly  referred  to  as  BEMs),  the  courage,  ingenuity 
and  brains  of  a  single  p\my  man,  or  small  group  of  men,  pitted  against 
the  terrible  might  and  overwhelming  scientific  knowledge  of  extra¬ 
terrestrial  aliens— with  defeat  the  inevitable  fate  of  the  invaders:  That 
was  what  set  the  reader’s  pulse  to  poimding.  That  was  the  type  of  story 
he  could  identify  with,  become  the  hero  of.  Action  was  the  hallmark  of 
Astounding  Stories  of  Super-Science. 

The  first  issue  featured  the  first  installment  of  a  two-part  novel  by 
Victor  Rousseau,  “The  Beetle  Horde,”  This  story  had  most  of  the 
classic  ingredients  of  an  early  Astounding  story:  a  mad  scientist 
named  Bram  seeks  revenge  by  releasing  his  trillions  (!)  of  man-sized 
beetles  on  an  utterly  defenseless  world  with  only  two  young  men,  Jimmy 
Dodd  and  Tommy  Travers,  standing  in  his  way. 

The  second  feature  in  this  first  issue  was  a  novelette  by  Ray  Cum- 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


mings,  “Phantoms  of  Reality,"  a  story  of  a  primitive  shadow  world 
occup^ng  the  same  position  in  space-time  as  Earth,  but  in  the  fourth 
dimension.  Ray  Cummings,  one  of  the  all-time  great  early  science 
fiction  writers,  was  a  former  associate  of  Thomas  Alva  Edison  and 
became  a  writer  with  the  publication  of  his  first  and  perhaps  greatest 
story,  “The  Girl  in  the  Golden  Atom*  (All-Story  Weekly,  March  15, 
1919).  An  acknowledged  classic,  this  was  the  first  of  several  stories 
and  novels  having  to  do  with  the  sub-submicroscopic  universe  within 
an  atom  of  a  gold  ring.  During  the  twenties  Cummings  wrote  a  number 
of  novels  which  established  his  reputation  as  an  innovator  to  whom 
many  later  writers  owe  a  great  debt,  a  writer  with  a  wide-roaming 
imagination,  a  teller  of  spellbinding  tales  of  high  adventure:  “The 
People  of  the  Golden  Atom,"  “A  Brand  New  World,"  “The  Fire  People," 
“The  Man  Who  Mastered  Time,"  “The  Man  on  the  Meteor,"  “Around 
the  Universe,"  “Tarrano  the  Conqueror,"  “The  Princess  of  the  Atom," 
and  “The  Shadow  Girl."  He  had  a  large  and  loyal  following  and  his 
presence  in  the  first  issue  of  Astounding  and  his  subsequent  appearances 
contributed  a  great  deal  to  its  immediate  acceptance  and  continuing 
popularity  with  the  fans. 

The  balance  of  the  first  issue  was  taken  up  with  short  stories:  “The 
Stolen  Mind"  by  M.  L.  Staley,  “Compensation"  by  C.  V.  Tench,  “Invisi¬ 
ble  Death"  by  Anthony  Pelcher,  “The  Cave  of  Horror"  by  Captain  S. 
P.  Meek,  and  “Tanks"  by  Murray  Leinster. 

Captain  Meek’s  story  was  the  first  of  the  popular  Dr.  Bird  stories 
to  appear  in  Astounding.  Dr.  Bird  was  a  multi-talented  scientist  who, 
with  the  cooperation  and  help  of  his  friend  Operative  Carnes  of  the 
United  States  Secret  Service,  went  about  solvii^  scientific  mysteries 
which  had  everyone  else  baffled.  In  this  story.  Dr.  Bird  and  Operative 
Carnes  go  to  Kentucky’s  Mammoth  Cave  to  solve  the  mystery  of  several 
strange  disappearances  and,  once  there,  discover  and  dispose  of  a 
ghastly  monster  inhabiting  the  cave’s  nether  regions  as  well. 

Murray  Leinster’s  “Tanks*  was  one  of  the  most  popular  stories  in 
the  issue  and  has  always  been  acclaimed  as  one  of  the  best  to  have 
been  published  in  any  Clayton  Astounding.  The  action  takes  place  in 
1932  during  a  war  between  the  United  States  and  the  “YeUow  Empire." 
This  war  is  the  first  in  which  the  infantry  has  been  practically  dis¬ 
continued  as  an  effective  fighting  force,  the  emphasis  on  both  sides 
being  placed  on  vast  tank  armadas  supported  by  aircraft,  helicopters, 
and  fog- gas.  The  story  is  told  from  the  viewpoint  of  two  lone,  bitter 
infantrymen  with  a  fine  contempt  for  tanks  who,  nevertheless,  play 
significant  roles  in  the  climactic  victory  of  America’s  great  tank  army 
over  the  enemy’s.  The  story  was  smoothly  written  with  reasonably 
believable  action,  motivation,  dialogue  and  solid  characterization,  as 
was  to  be  expected  of  Murray  Leinster  who  had  been  writing  since  his 
first  science  fiction  story  (his  first  professionally  published  story 
appeared  in  Smart  Set  in  1915),  “The  Runaway  Skyscraper"  appeared 
in  Argosy,  February  22, 1919.  Leinster  (who  writes  non-science  fiction 
under  his  real  name  of  Will  F.  Jenkins)  is  still  writing  today,  is  as 


ALVA  ROGERS 


popixlar  as  ever,  and  was  given  long  overdue  recognition  for  almost 
fifty  years  of  contribution  to  the  science  fiction  field  in  1963  by  being 
designated  Guest  of  Honor  at  the  21st  World  Science  Fiction  Convention 
held  in  Washington,  D.C. 

Leinster’s  only  serial  for  the  Clayton  Astound ii^  was  “Murder 
Madness,”  a  four-part  novel  beginning  with  the  May,  1930  issue,  and 
later  published  in  book  form  asastraight  mystery  (Brewer  and  Warren, 
1931).  A  mysterious  person  known  only  as  the  Master  is  bent  on  world 
domination  and  to  accomplish  his  ends  uses  a  strange  poison  on  selected 
individuals  which  produces  “murder  madness”  two  weeks  after  taking 
it.  The  victim  experiences  a  horrible  writhing  of  the  hands  followed 
by  an  irresistible  compulsion  to  commit  murder.  The  antidote  is  ob¬ 
tainable  only  from  the  Master  or  one  of  his  agents  but,  imknown  to  the 
victim  seeking  relief,  within  the  antidote  is  another  dose  of  the  poison 
which  insures  his  perpetual  enslavement  to  the  Master. 

The  cover  on  the  first  Astounding  was  the  work  of  H(ans) .  W(aldemar) . 
Wessolowski,  or  Wesso,  who  illustrated  “The  Beetle  Horde”  in  a  fashion 
that  was  typically  his  own.  Wesso  did  all  thirty-four  of  the  Clayton 
Astounding  covers;  his  medium  being  watercolors,  his  style  garish. 
Wesso’s  covers  were  a  joy  to  behold — brilliantly  colorful  and  jammed 
with  action,  they  were  so  awful  as  to  be  positively  beautiful.  His  first 
science  fiction  cover  was  for  the  September,  1929  Amazing  Stories  and 
illustrated  “The  Red  Peril”  by  Captain  S.  P.  Meek,  his  last  for  the 
March,  1942  Astonishing.  He  was  one  of  the  most  popular  of  all  science 
fiction  illustrators,  his  popularity  lasting  well  into  the  forties  when  his 
work  gradually  disappeared  from  the  pages  of  science  fiction  maga¬ 
zines.  By  the  end  of  1930,  virtually  all  the  interior  illustrations  for 
Astounding  were  being  done  by  Wesso  and,  what  with  his  covers,  he  is 
naturally  thought  of  as  THE  Clayton  Astounding  artist. 

Most  of  the  stories  published  in  the  Clayton  Astoimding  have  long 
since  disappeared  into  oblivion  (well  deserved  in  most  cases),  remem¬ 
bered  by  relatively  few,  except  possibly  as  disembodied  but  evocative 
titles:  “Pirates  of  the  Gorm”  by  Nat  Schachner,  “The  Raid  on  the 
Termites”  by  Paul  Ernst,  “Hellhoimds  of  the  Cosmos”  by  Clifford  D. 
Simak,  “The  Sargasso  of  Space”  by  Edmond  Hamilton,  “The  Doom  from 
Planet  4”  by  Jack  Williamson,  “Wanderer  of  Infinity”  by  Harl  Vincent, 
“Spawn  of  the  Stars”  by  Charles  Willard  Diffin,  etc.  (“Spawn  of  the 
Stars”  was  reprinted  in  Groff  Conklin’s  first  and  best  anthology.  The 
Best  of  Science  Fiction,  published  in  1946  by  Crown.) 

If  any  can  be  said  to  have  escaped  this  fate,  they  are  the  novels  of 
Ray  Cummings.  With  the  possible  exception  of  Murray  Leinster, 
Cummings  was  the  biggest  “name”  writing  for  Astoimding  during  its 
first  two  years,  and  was  one  of  the  few  writers  of  pulp  science  fiction 
in  that  era  who  regularly  had  his  novels  subsequently  published  in  hard 
covers.  Because  of  his  reputation  and  because  his  novels  and  novelet¬ 
tes  were  among  the  best  to  appear  in  the  Clayton  Astounding,  the 
Cummings  novels  survived  in  the  memories  of  fans  far  beyond  the 
period  in  which  they  were  written.  Read  today,  the  novels  of  Ray 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


May,  1931;  another  Clayton  issi 


Illustration  by  Wesso. 


ALVA  ROGERS 


Cummings  are  uncomplicated,  even  naive,  and  many  of  them  bear  a 
certain  similarity  to  each  other  in  terms  of  plot.  But,  if  read  simply 
for  fim,  they  are  enjoyable  stories  and  excellent  examples  of  the 
general  type  of  stories  featured  in  Astounding  during  its  first  two  years. 

The  hard  bound  versions  of  most  of  Cummings’  novels  are  today 
fairly  rare,  but  three  of  his  Astounding  novels  have  been  reprinted  in 
paperback  in  recent  years  and  offer  one  a  marvelous  opportunity  to 
savor  the  flavor  of  the  early  Astounding:  “Brigands  of  the  Moon” 
(March- June,  1930),  a  story  of  space  piracy  and  the  conflict  between 
Earth  and  Mars  over  the  mining  of  the  super  powerful  radium  ore 
found  on  the  moon.  This  was  the  only  one  of  Cummings’  Astounding 
novels  to  appear  in  an  American  hard  cover  edition,  A.  C.  McClurg, 
1931  (Ace,  1958);  “Beyond  the  Vanishing  Point”  (March,  1931),  a  return 
to  one  of  his  favorite  themes,  the  submicroscopic  world  of  the  golden 
atom  (Ace,  1958),  and  “Wandl,  the  Invader”  (February-May,  1932),  a 
sequel  to  “Brigands  of  the  Moon,”  in  which  the  heroes  of  the  earlier 
novel  are  confronted  with  the  menace  of  a  small  planet  invading  the 
solar  system  from  interstellar  space  and  heading  directly  toward  the 
Earth-Mars  spaceways.  The  planet,  needless  to  say,  is  under  the 
control  of  alien  minds  and  monsters  and  its  invasion  of  the  Solar 
system  is  no  accident  (Ace,  1961). 

No  discussion  of  the  Clayton  Astounding  would  be  complete  without 
mentioning  that  giant  of  the  spaceways.  Hawk  Carse.  The  adventures 
of  Hawk  Carse,  of  which  there  were  four,  epitomize  the  Clayton 
Astounding  type  of  science  fiction  more  nearly  than  any  other  stories 
including  those  of  Ray  Cummings.  With  steel  nerves,  raw  courage,  and 
flashing  rayguns,  the  Hawk  and  his  faithful  companion,  the  giant  Negro 
Friday,  ranged  the  Solar  system  in  deadly  pursuit  of  their  great  enemy, 
the  evil  space  pirate  Dr.  Ku  Sui,  whose  one  aim  was  to  dominate 
the  Solar  system,  but  whose  evil  plans  were  frustrated  at  every  turn 
by  the  implacable  Hawk.  The  prototype  of  Hawk  Carse  was  the  ideal 
Anglo-Saxon  frontiersman;  hardy,  resourceful,  basically  good  but 
with  a  healthy  streak  of  the  rogue  in  his  character,  a  law  pretty  much 
unto  himself.  The  prototype  of  Dr.  Ku  Sui  was  quite  obviously  the 
sinister  Dr.  Fu  Manchu. 

The  “Hawk  Carse’  stories  contained  just  about  every  cliche  and 
stereotyped  character  to  be  found  in  what  later  came  to  be  known  as 
“space  opera,”  but  have  been  saved  from  oblivion  by  the  speU  they 
cast  on  the  readers  by  their  colorM,  even  if  stereotyped,  characters 
and  the  unflagging  drive  of  the  action  that  characterized  the  stories. 
The  adventures  of  Hawk  Carse  appeared  as  four  quite  long  novelettes: 
“Hawk  Carse,”  November,  1931;  “The  Affair  of  the  Brains,”  March, 
1932;  “The  Bluff  of  the  Hawk,”  May,  1932, and  “The  Passing  of  Ku  Sui,” 
November,  1932.  All  of  them  were  authored  by  Anthony  Gilmore.  The 
demand  for  more  “Hawk  Carse”  stories  persisted  over  the  next  ten 
years  as  he  passed  into  legend  and  older  fans  waxed  nostalgic  over  the 
greatness  of  the  stories,  whetting  the  appetites  of  newer  fans  who  had 
not  tasted  the  thrill  of  the  adventures  of  the  mighty  Hawk.  In  July, 


1942  Amazing  Stories  printed  a  short  novel  by  Harry  Bates  in  an  at¬ 
tempt  to  revive  the  Hawk,  “The  Return  of  Hawk  Carse,”  but  by  this 
time  the  magic  had  worn  thin,  the  day  of  the  “Hawk”  had  passed. 

Although  printed  as  separate  stories,  they  form  in  effect  one  con¬ 
tinuous  narrative  of  novel  length,  and  it  was  as  a  novel  that  the  adven¬ 
tures  of  Hawk  Carse  eventually  appeared  in  book  form  (excluding  “The 
Return  of  Hawk  Carse”),  unchanged  in  any  discernible  way  from  their 
original  magazine  versions.  (Space  Hawk,  by  Anthony  Gilmore,  Green¬ 
berg,  1952.) 

An  interesting  sidelight  to  the  Hawk  Carse  stories  was  the  mystery 
that  for  so  long  surrounded  the  true  identity  of  Anthony  Gilmore.  It 
was  known  that  Anthony  Gilmore  was  a  pseudonym,  and  it  was  believed 
by  most  to  be  that  of  a  collaboration  between  editor  Harry  Bates  and 


another  writer.  As  late  as  1934  fans  were  speculating  on  the  identity 
of  Gilmore.  In  the  leading  fan  magazine  of  the  day,  Fantasy  Magazine, 
October-November,  1934  Raymond  A.  Palmer  (later  to  become  the 
editor  of  Amazing  Stories),  in  his  column  “Spilling  the  Atoms  With 
RAP,”  disputed  the  claim  of  a  fan  from  Ohio  that  he’d  solved  the 
“Anthony  Gilmore  mystery”  by  extracting  a  confession  from  the  guilty 
party:  “If  you  had  solved  the  Gilmore  case  you  wouldn’t  get  a  con¬ 
fession,”  declared  Palmer,  “There  are  some  stories  too  hot  to  let  out. 
Why  do  you  suppose  we  (Fantasy  Magazine)  suddenly  stopped  investi¬ 
gations?”  In  time  it  was  admitted  that  “Anthony  Gilmore”  was  a  col¬ 
laboration  between  Harry  Bates  and  Desmond  Hall  who,  in  addition  to 
having  been  Bates’  assistant  editor  for  about  nine  months,  was  a  writer 
of  indifferent  science  fiction  as  D.  W.  Hall.  Bates  and  Hall  also  col¬ 
laborated  on  four  stories  under  the  name  of  H.  G.  Winter,  and  on  one 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


story,  “A  Scientist  Rises,”  in  the 
November,  1932  issue  as  D.  W. 
Hall.  Anthony  Gilmore  wrote  a 
handful  of  other  stories,  but  these 
are  long  since  mercifully  forgot¬ 
ten.  The  important  thing  is  that 
“Anthony  Gilmore”  wrote  the  im¬ 
mortal  “Hawk  Carse”  adventures, 
the  enduring  symbol  of  the  Clay¬ 
ton  Astounding. 

The  magazine  remained  As¬ 
tounding  Stories  of  Super-Science 


12 


ALVA  ROGERS 


the  masthead  as  consulting  editor  since  the  first  issue,  was  missing 
as  of  the  August  Issue. 

Astounding  was  bom  in  the  first  months  of  the  Great  Depression,  but 
the  depression  had  little  adverse  effect  on  most  pulp  magazines  as  far 
as  the  man  on  the  street,  the  average  reader  of  pulp  magazines,  could 
tell.  Pulp  magazines  were  cheap  and  offered  a  few  hours  of  escape  from 
the  grim  realities  of  the  economic  situation.  Science  fiction  has  often 
been  characterized  as  escape  literature,  but  in  the  thirties  this  could  just 
as  well  be  ascribed  to  all  pulp  fiction  magazines— the  science  fiction 
reader  merely  escaped  a  little  further  out  than  readers  of  more  mun¬ 
dane  pulps .  A  majority  of  the  pulps  (and  pulp  publishers)  survived  the 
most  grueling  years  of  the  depression,  but  a  few  dropped  by  the  way- 
side  for  one  reason  or  another,  some  never  to  be  seen  again,  others  to 
be  revived  or  taken  over  by  another  publisher.  The  Clayton  chain  was 
one  that  didn’t  survive. 

By  the  middle  of  1932,  economic  factors  forced  Astounding  onto  a 
bi-monthly  schedule  starting  with  the  June  issue  and  after  publishing 
the  March,  1933  issue,  the  Clayton  chain  went  out  of  business  and 
Astounding  ceased  to  exist. 

The  economic  factors  affecting  the  continued  existence  of  Astounding 
(and  the  Clayton  chain)  were  internal,  not  external.  Since  its  foxmding. 
Bates  had  steadily  increased  the  sales  of  Astounding  until  at  the  end  it 
was  on  the  point  of  breaking  even.  This,  in  the  depths  of  the  depression. 
And  from  the  beginning  he  paid  a  minimum  of  two  cents  a  word  on  ac¬ 
ceptance  to  all  authors,  and  as  much  as  four  cents  a  word  to  Ray  Cum¬ 
mings  and  Murray  Leinster.  This  also  in  the  depths  of  the  depression. 
A  short  time  before  Astounding  folded,  William  Clayton  found  himself 
in  need  of  ready  cash,  a  need  that  became  increasingly  more  desperate: 
he  had  bought  out  his  partner  (the  money  half  of  the  partnership).  Al¬ 
though  he  was  now  in  sole  possession  of  a  string  of  magazines,  many 
of  which  were  making  money,  and  two  or  three  a  good  deal  of  money, 
he  was  facing  bankruptcy  because  of  his  legal  obligation  to  pay  off  his 
former  partner  immediately.  Before,  when  he  needed  a  large  sum  of 
money  in  a  hurry,  he  was  able  to  get  it  from  his  partner;  now,  of  course, 
he  could  no  longer  do  this.  He  had  to  raise  the  money  somewhere. 
His  first  step  in  raising  the  money  was  to  put  Astoimding  on  a  bi¬ 
monthly  schedule  and  then,  a  couple  of  months  before  the  end,  he  re¬ 
quested  Bates  to  start  paying  on  publication.  But  even  these  measures 
failed  to  save  Astounding  and,  eventually,  the  entire  chain.  To  get 
some  idea  of  what  it  was  costing  Clayton  to  buy  out  his  partner:  a 
quarter-million-dollar  check  he  sent  his  partner  in  part  payment  for 
his  interest  was  shown  about  the  editorial  offices  by  the  Clayton  con¬ 
troller  as  a  curiosity.  It  has  been  reported  that  the  final  margin  of 
failure,  the  difference  between  survival  and  extinction  for  the  great 
Clayton  chain  of  magazines,  was  a  paltry  twenty-five  thousand  dollars. 

Although  going  bi-monthly  from  a  monthly  schedule  is  usually  a 
strong  indication  that  things  are  getting  a  little  rocky  in  the  financial 
department,  the  general  editorial  tone  of  Astounding  was  determinedly 


A  REQXHEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


13 


March,  1933,  the  last  Clayton  issue.  Illustration  by  Wei 


SALVAGE  IN  SPACE 
.By  JACK  WILUAMSON 

Also  Stories  By 
ARTHUR  J.  BURKS 
;  HARL  VINCENT 
UyiURiMY  LEINSTER 


14 


ALVA  ROGERS 


optimistic.  In  an  editorial  statement  in  the  January,  1933  issue  (the 
next  to  the  last),  editor  Harry  Bates  directed  the  attention  of  those  who 
may  not  have  already  noticed  to  the  cover  and  the  fact  that  the  maga¬ 
zine’s  full  name  had  been  restored;  it  was  again  Astoimding  Stories  of 
Super-Science.  In  addition  to  this  he  was  establishing  as  a  regular 
feature  with  this  issue  a  “Science  Forum”  imder  the  direction  of 
Carlyle  Elliott,  Ph.D.,  to  satisfy  the  scientific  Interest  of  the  readers, 
and  he  was  asking  his  writers  to  increase  the  science  content  of  their 
stories  and  promised  that  from  this  point  on  the  stories  would  be 
checked  more  rigorously  than  ever  for  scientific  accuracy.  He  also 
pointed  out  that  he  was  giving  the  opening  of  every  story  a  double  page 
layout.  All  this  was  well  and  good,  but  what  excited  most  readers  was 
the  annoimcement  that,  beginning  with  the  next  issue.  Astound^  would 
print  the  latest  novel  of  the  premier  science  fiction  writer  of  the  day, 
Edward  E.  Smith,  Ph.D. 

“Triplanetary”  would  appear  in  an  undisclosed  number  of  installments 
but,  according  to  the  announcement,  the  first  installment  would  contain 
the  first  full  half  of  this  great  new  novel.  This  was  one  of  the  most — 
if  not  tlm  most— exciting  and  significant  events  to  occur  in  the  two- 
and-one-half  years  of  the  magazine.  Not  only  was  “Skylark”  Smith  the 
most  highly  regarded  writer  in  the  field,  but  all  his  previous  novels 
had  been  published  by  Amazing  Stories. 

“Triplanetary”  was  written  for  Astounding  at  the  request  of  Harry 
Bates.  Dr.  Smith  agreed  to  write  a  novel  for  Astounding  instead  of 
Amazing  for  two  reasons:  First,  higher  rates;  two  cents  a  word 
against  something  less  than  one  cent.  Second,  he  was  thoroughly  sick 
of  Amazing’s  rewriting  his  material.  However,  by  the  time  the  novel 
was  completed.  Bates  was  paying  on  publication,  not  on  acceptance;  so 
although  the  yarn  was  accepted  and  announced  for  publication.  Bates 
never  paid  Smith  anything  for  it. 

The  absence  of  “Triplanetary”  in  the  March,  1933  issue  without  any 
explanation  was  a  bitter  blow  to  Doc  Smith’s  fans.  Although  the  story 
never  appeared  in  Astounding  (it  was  finally  published  by  Amazing 
Stories  after  all  as  a  four-part  serial  beginning  in  January,  1^34), 
Wesso  had  already  painted  a  cover  for  it  and  this  painting  was  used  as 
the  cover  for  this  last  issue  of  the  Clayton  Astounding,  ostensibly 
illustrating  Jack  Williamson’s  “Salvage  in  SpacTT® 

The  sudden  folding  of  Astounding  without  hint  or  notice  came  as 
a  huge  surprise  to  most  readers.  What  most  readers  didn’t  know: 
Bates’  editorship  of  Astovmdlng  had  terminated  with  the  preceding 
issue,  January,  but  Clayton  called  him  back  to  get  out  one  more.  There 
were  enough  bought  and  paid  for  stories  to  fill  it,  as  well  as  illustra¬ 
tions  and  an  already  painted  and  paid  for  cover.  Assuming  he’d  lose 
money  with  the  last  issue,  he  figured  he'd  lose  less  by  issuing  it  than 
by  not  issuing  it. 

But  unforeseen  by  everyone,  and  sooner  than  could  be  expected. 
Astounding  was  to  rise  Phoenix-like  from  the  ashes  of  its  past  and 
initiate  a  renaissance  in  science  fiction  beyond  anyone’s  imaginings. 


AsrrxEET  c  Smith  PUBLiCATTo^gi 


LUST 

^ITY 

of 

MARS 


HARL  VthKENn 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


February,  1934,  cover  painting  by  Brown. 


KtBIRTKI 

ThomnK  C 


CHAPTER  II 


THE  TREMAINE  ERA;  FIRST  PHASE  1933-1935 


After  an  absence  of  six  months,  Astounding  reappeared  on 
the  stands  in  September  (dated  October,  1933)  as  a  mem¬ 
ber  of  the  Street  &  Smith  family  of  magazines,  with  its  old 
familiar  title  slashing  boldly  across  the  top  of  the  cover, 
but  otherwise  looking  strangely  different  than  the  Astounding 
of  old.  For  one  thing,  the  cover  obviously  was  not  by  Wesso  and, 
secondly,  the  scene  depicted  on  the  cover  was  not  even  remotely 
science-fictional.  That,  and  the  next  two  covers  of  the  Street  &  Smith 
Astounding  were  the  work  of  Howard  V.  Brown,  the  great  successor  to 
H.  W.  Wesso  as  Astounding  cover  artist. 

The  story  announced  on  the  cover  was  “The  Orange  God,”  by  Walter 
Glamis  (a  pseudonym  of  Nat  Schachner);  the  cover  painting,  however, 
illustrated  another  short  story,  “Anything  Can  Happen!”  by  Peter 
Gordon.  Neither  story  was  science  fiction.  In  fact,  of  the  total  of 
eleven  stories  in  this  issue,  only  three  were  science  fiction,  the  rest 
being  straight  adventure  or  vaguely  occult  in  theme.  Because  of  the 
strange  makeup  of  the  magazine,  it  was  hard  to  determine  whether 
Astounding  Stories  was  to  be  a  science  fiction  or  a  general  fiction 
magazine  (on  the  order  of  Top-Notch  or  Argosy,  which  usually  had  one 
or  more  “different”  stories  in  each  issue)  ^der  its  new  publisher.  It 
was  not  long  before  these  questions  were  answered. 

Altho^igh  the  November  issue  didn’t  fully  allay  the  doubts  many  had 
about  the  magazine,  it  was  more  science-fictional  in  appearance  and 
tone  than  was  the  October  issue  and  the  announcement  for  the  next 
issue— a  full  page  broadside— indicated  that  Astounding  was  indeed  a 
science  fiction  magazine.  This  annoimcement  also  hinted  that  the  new 
Street  &  Smith  Astounding  was  to  be  markedly  different  from  the  old; 
would  be  something  more  than  a  science  fiction  adventure  magazine 
specializing  in  thud  and  blunder,  BEMs,  and  the  like. 

The  full  page  announcement  read: 


16 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


17 


The  Next  Issue  of  Astounding  Stories 
WILL  CONTAIN 
A  story  that  will  awaken 
MORE  CONTROVERSY 
Than  any  story  ever  published  in  a 
SCIENCE-FICTION  MAGAZINE 

ANCESTRAL  VOICES 

By  Nat  Schachner 

Slices  daringly  through  the  most  precious  myths,  legends, 
and  folklore  of  mankind,  and  attacks  boldly  a  present- 
day  wave  of  race-hysteria. 


This  is  not  just  “  another  story” 

You  will  LlfCE  it;  or  HATE  it;  and  will  READ 

it  AGAIN, 

ANCESTRAL  VOICES 

in  the  December 

ASTOUNDING  STORIES 

The  socially  significant  implications  in  this  announcement  alone, 
regardless  of  how  the  story  lived  up  to  it,  were  unprecedented  in 
Astounding. 

December,  1933  can  rightfully  be  regarded  as  the  beginning  of  the 
Tremaine  Era,  the  beginning  of  the  renaissance  of  magazine  science 
fiction.  The  name  of  the  new  editor  of  Astoimding  was  disclosed  in 
this  issue:  F.  Orlin  Tremaine.  Tremaine  was  relatively  unknown  to 


18 


ALVA  ROGERS 


most  readers  of  Astounding,  but  he  had  an  impressive  background: 
Frederick  Orlin  Tremaine  was  thirty-four  years  old  when  he  assiuned 
the  editorship  of  Astounding,  was  a  graduate  of  Valparaiso  University, 
and  during  the  twenties  had  at  various  times  edited  Metropolitan,  True 
Story,  Miss  1929,  and  Eveiybody’s  Magazine.  In  more  recent  years  he 
had  been  associated  with  Clayton  magazines.  With  the  foldii^  of  the 
Clayton  chain  he  went  to  work  for  Street  &  Smith  and  now  in  addition 
to  Astoimding  also  edited  Clues,  Top-Notch,  Cowboy  Stories,  and  Bill 
Barnes,  Air  Adventurer.  That  Astounding  rose  to  the  heights  it  did 
with  such  meteoric  speed  is  truly  remarkable  in  the  light  of  this 
editorial  workload  carried  by  Tremaine. 

Incidentally,  fora  time  Tremaine’s  associate  editor  was  Desmond 
Hall,  the  same  Desmond  Hall  who  was  for  nine  months  Harry  Bates’ 
assistant  editor  and  his  collaborator  in  the  Anthony  Gilmore  pseudonym. 

Tremaine  announced  the  institution  of  a  new  editorial  policy  for 
Astounding  in  an  editorial  statement  at  the  begiiming  of  the  new  letter 
section,  “Brass  Tacks.”  Wrote  Tremaine:  “Our  purpose  is  to  bring 
to  you  each  month  one  story  carrying  a  new  and  unexplored  ‘thought 
variant’  in  the  field  of  scientific  fiction.  This  month  you  will  find  it  in 
‘Ancestral  Voices’  by  Nat  Schachner.  It  carries  a  thoi^ht  which  has 
been  slurred  over  or  passed  by  in  many,  many  stories.”  He  goes  on 
to  declare  that  Astounding  will  bow  to  no  prejudices  and  will  speak  its 
mind  frankly,  without  regard  for  the  restrictions  formerly  placed  on 
science  fiction. 

Not  always  did  the  thought  variant  contain  the  sensationally  new  idea 
claimed  for  it,  but  generally  the  thoi^ht  variant  policy  did  inspire 
many  writers  to  give  more  thought  to  the  essential  idea  in  their  stories 
rather  than  to  rework  the  old  timeworn  ones  that  had  been  around 
since  the  year  one.  Writers  beii^  what  they  are  and  anxious  to  sell 
their  work,  most  of  those  submitting  to  Astounding  took  their  cue  from 
this  announcement  and  placed  increasingly  heavier  emphasis  on  “ideas” 
in  their  stories,  and  just  sort  of  brushed  in  characterization,  mood, 
and  background  detail.  Regardless  of  its  inherent  deficiencies,  the 
thought  variant  policy  was  largely  responsible  for  the  rapid  rise  of 
Astounding  to  top  position  in  the  science  fiction  field.  The  response 
to  the  thought  variants  by  the  fans  in  the  looming  year  was  so  en¬ 
thusiastic  that  Charles  D.  Homig,  the  seventeen-year-old  managing 
editor  of  Wonder  Stories,  early  in  1934  Inaugurated  a  “New  Plot”  policy 
in  an  effort  to  beef  up  his  dwindling  circulation. 

The  “thought  variant”  element  of  Schachner’s  “Ancestral  Voices”  is 
today  an  accepted  cliche  of  time  travel  stories,  but  at  the  time  it  was 
moderately  revolutionary.  What  happens  when  one  goes  back  in  time 
and  for  some  reason  kills  one’s  own  direct  ancestor?  Why,  one  ceases 
to  exist  or  ever  to  have  existed,  of  course.  This  basic  idea  was  not 
new,  but  Schachner  developed  it  beyond  the  simple  one-to-one  ratio 
and  carried  the  idea  to  its  logical  conclusions.  Going  back  to  452 
A.D.,  a  time  when  the  Roman  Empire  was  crumbling  before  the  in¬ 
vading  Hun,  he  has  his  time  traveler  kill  a  Hun  during  a  fight.  The 


ALVA  ROGERS 


Hun,  it  turns  out,  would  have  been  his  great-grandfather  many  times 
removed  had  he  lived  loi^  enough  to  mate.  As  a  natural  conse¬ 
quence  of  this  act  he,  as  well  as  fifty-thousand  others  of  all  races  in 
all  parts  of  the  world,  disappeared  from  modem  time  for  they  should 
never  have  existed  because  the  Hun  had  not  had  time  to  procreate. 
Schachner  attempted  in  this  story  to  show  the  imbecility  of  ancestor 
worship,  but  more  importantly  the  fallacy  of  the  rising  Hitlerian  anti- 
Semitism  and  doctrine  of  Nordic  superiority.  There  were  incongruities 
in  the  story  and  a  real  lack  of  depth  to  it,  but  when  it  is  considered  in 
relation  to  the  time  in  which  it  was  written  and  the  themes  in  science 
fiction  that  preceded  it  and  were  currentlypopular,  this  was  a  remarka¬ 
ble  story  and  one  of  the  first  of  the  sociologically  oriented  type  science 
fiction  that  dominated  the  forties. 

With  the  exception  of  a  story  called  “Last  Sacrifice*  by  J.  Gibson 
Taylor,  a  tale  of  psychic  possession  and  Haitian  voodoo,  and  “The 
Demon  of  the  Flower,”  a  moody,  hard  to  classify,  little  gem  by  Clark 
Ashton  Smith  (originally  intended  for  the  defunct  Strange  Tales,  a 
Weird  Tales  type  companion  to  Astounding  under  the  Clayton  banner), 
everything  else  in  the  December  issue  was  science  fiction:  ‘Tarewell 
to  Earth”  by  Donald  Wandrei,  a  time  travel  story  which  goes  a  million 
years  into  the  future,  and  a  sequel  to  “A  Race  Through  Time”  in  the 
October  issue;  "Terror  Out  of  Time”  by  Jack  Williamson,  which  dealt 
with  another  form  of  time  travel,  the  transfer  of  brains  or  personali¬ 
ties  throi^h  time,  and  "Land  of  the  Lost,”  the  first  installment  of  a 
two-part  novel  by  Charles  Willard  Diffin,  an  indifferent  story  of  extra- 
dimensional  menace  by  one  of  the  most  prolific  of  the  old  Clayton  writers. 

The  thought  variant  for  January,  1934  was  Donald  Wandrei’s  story 
“Colossus,”  an  ambitious  and  controversial  excursion  into  relativity, 
a  sort  of  reverse  approach  to  the  “golden  atom”  concept  of  Ray  Ciun- 
mings.  Instead  of  shrinking  into  Infinite  smallness  within  the  universe 
of  the  golden  atom,  Wandrei’s  protagonist  expands  his  mass  through 
the  attainment  of  speeds  of  thousands  of  light-years  per  second  to  such 
gigantic  proportions  that  he  bursts  through  the  ultimate  limits  of  our 
universe  to  suddenly  find  himself  in  a  greater  universe  in  which  ours 
is  but  an  atom. 

A  much  better  story  was  Nat  Schachner’s  “RedmaskoftheOutlands,” 
a  minor  classic  which  probed  the  problem  of  individuality  versus  en¬ 
forced  conformity,  and  rebellion  against  an  autocratic  state.  This 
again  was  an  attempt  by  Schachner  to  ei^lore  the  possibilities  of 
sociological  themes  for  science  fiction  and  was  a  far  superior  story  to 
“Ancestral  Voices.” 

February  featured  the  first  of  two  installments  of  one  of  the  great 
classics  of  the  mid-thirties,  “Rebirth”  by  Thomas  Calvert  McClary. 
“Rebirth”  told  of  the  consequences  arising  out  of  a  brilliant  scientist’s 
idealistic  but  catastrophic  tampering  with  nature— in  this  case  causing 
imiversal  total  amnesia  with  the  hope  that  man  will  rapidly  relearn 
language  and  science  and  rebuild  a  new  and  greater  civilization,  leav¬ 
ing  behind  greed,  hate  and  war.  The  science  on  which  this  was  based 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


21 


22 


ALVA  ROGERS 


was  so  much  preposterous  double-talk,  but  once  one  surmounted  this 
hurdle  and  got  Into  the  story  of  man’s  involimtary  plunge  into  savagery 
and  his  return  to  civilization  all  thought  of  the  story’s  improbable 
science  was  soon  forgotten. 

Two  thought  variants  were  offered  up  to  the  readers  in  the  March 
Astounding.  Featured  on  the  Howard  V.  Brown  cover  was  John  Russell 
Fearn’s  “The  Man  Who  Stopped  the  Dust,”  which  was  about  a  slightly 
unhinged  scientist’s  invention  of  a  ray  that  would  eliminate  dust;  the 
ray  destroyed  all  electrons  within  the  molecules  making  up  the  dust 
particle  thus  causing  the  collapse  of  the  molecule  and  of  the  dust  par¬ 
ticle  as  well.  The  result  of  all  this,  needless  to  say,  was  unexpected 
and  dramatic.  The  second  thought  variant  was  Jack  Williamson’s 
“Born  of  the  Sun,”  a  wildly  improbable  tale  of  the  end  of  the  Solar 
system.  One  by  one  the  outer  planets,  then  the  moon,  the  Earth,  and 
then  the  inner  planets  start  to  show  cracks  on  their  surfaces,  change 
to  a  strange  green  color,  then  break  open  like  an  egg  as  a  colossal 
dragon-like  creature  with  wings  “more  than  anything  else  like  the 
eldritch,  gorgeous  streamers  of  the  Sim’s  corona,  which  is  seen  only 
at  the  moment  of  total  eclipse,”  emerges,  preens  itself  for  a  moment, 
wheels  across  the  sky  and  disappears  into  interstellar  space.  And  the 
Sun  died.  The  Sun — all  suns — were  once  creatures  like  this  who  ab¬ 
sorbed  energy,  devoured  cosmic  debris,  consumed  old  suns  until  they 
themselves  become  suns,  spawning  planets,  thus  continuing  the  cycle 
of  life.  Add  to  this  a  secret  Cult  of  the  Great  Egg  hidden  in  the  Gobi 
Desert,  murderous  disciples  of  the  Cult,  the  kidnapping  of  a  beautiful 
girl,  a  desperate  race  to  complete  a  space  ship  before  the  breakup  of 
the  Earth  so  the  seed  of  man  may  carry  on,  riots  and  what-not,  and 
you  had  what  the  table  of  contents  described  as  a  “great  thought  variant 
story.” 

With  this  issue  the  page  count  for  Astounding  went  from  the  144  it 
had  been  since  the  first  issue  to  160  with  no  change  in  the  twenty  cent 
cover  price. 

Who  can  ever  forget  the  thrill  of  reading  “The  Legion  of  Space”  by 
Jack  Williamson  for  the  first  time?  The  first  part  of  this  classic 
began  in  the  April  issue  and  ran  for  six  breathtaking  installments. 
The  adventures  of  John  Star,  Giles  Habibula,  the  mighty  Hal  Samdu, 
and  Jay  Kalam  on  the  evil  world  of  the  Medusae,  the  planet  Yarkand, 
as  they  fought  to  save  the  lovely  Aladoree  Anthar  and  the  secret 
weapon,  AKKA,  which  she  alone  held  in  her  mind  and  which  was  the 
only  salvation  of  Earth,  were  high  adventure  indeed  with  a  Sense  of 
Wonder  in  ample  measure. 

Also  in  this  issue  was  “A  Matter  of  Size”  by  Harry  Bates,  a  long 
novelette  on  the  shrinking  man  theme— and  one  of  the  best  of  that  type 
—which  established  the  former  editor  of  Astounding  as  one  of  the 
better,  if  infrequent,  contributors  to  the  new  magazine.  Nat  Schachner 
had  another  thought  variant,  “He  From  Procyon,”  about  a  god-like 
visitant  from  another  world  who  experimented  with  the  lives  of  a 
number  of  ordinary  people  of  Earth.  And  finally,  “Lol”,  Charles 


24 


ALVA  ROGERS 


Fort’s  controversial  and  fascinating  collection  of  une;q>lained  phe¬ 
nomena  was  presented  in  the  first  of  eight  installments.  In  addition  to 
these  outstanding  features  there  were  four  short  stories  and  a  dramatic 
cover  by  Brown  to  roimd  out  one  of  the  best  single  issues  of  the  thirties. 

May  was  unspectacular  except  for  the  second  installments  of  “The 
Legion  of  Space”  and  “Lo!  ”,  and  a  couple  of  teasers  about  the  greatest 
announcement  of  the  year  to  be  made  next  month. 

June  featured  a  thought  variant  by  the  old  master,  Murray  Leinster, 
which  was  in  the  truest  sense  of  that  much  abused  term  a  thought 
variant.  “Sidewise  in  Time”  presented  for  the  first  time  the  concept 
of  parallel  time  streams  impinging  »5)on  each  other  with  each  time 
stream  the  result  of  events  taking  a  divergent  course  at  a  crucial 
moment  in  history  from  that  which  ours  took.  Stories  dealing  with 
single  alternate  “worlds  of  if”  were  not  new,  but  this  story  dealt  with 
a  multiplicity  of  worlds  and  their  impact  upon  each  other,  and  served 
as  a  model  for  such  future  stories  as  Jack  Williamson’s  “The  Legion 
of  Time”  and  L.  Sprague  de  Camp’s  “The  Wheels  of  K.” 

The  subject  of  Brown’s  colorful  cover  painting  of  a  space  ship  was  a 
story  by  a  relative  youngster,  “Crater  17,  Near  Tycho”  by  Frank  K. 
Kelly,  a  well  conceived  and  thoi^htful  adventure  of  the  early  days  of 
space  flight.  A  letter  by  Mr.  Kelly  in  the  October  issue  commenting 
on  his  story  points  up  the  advances  that  have  been  made  in  the  science 
of  flight  in  a  short  thirty  years.  In  justifying  the  slow  speeds  used  by 
his  space  craft  he  said:  “No  one  has  yet  demonstrated  that  men, 
human  beings,  can  stand  an  acceleration  of  even  a  thousand  miles  per 
hour  (sic)  and  live.  A  number  of  experiments  in  this  field  of  ac¬ 
celeration  effects  have  been  conducted  with  confused  and  contradictory 
results.” 

The  announcement  promised  last  month  was  truly  an  electrifying 
one.  THE  SKYLARK  IS  COMING!  proclaimed  the  full  page  notice  on 
page  47.  Starting  in  August,  Edward  E,  Smith,  Ph.D.  would  bring  his 
great  saga  of  the  Skylarks  to  a  titanic  conclusion  with  “The  Skylark  of 
Valeron,”an  85,000  word  novel  surpassing  by  far  its  two  predecessors 
...mighty  in  its  concept  of  cataclysmic  forces  ...  propounding  new 
theories— thought  variant  theories. .  .and  containing  Dr.  Smith’s  amaz¬ 
ing  conception  of  the  fourth  dimension.  This  news  was  enough  to  put 
most  fans  into  a  state  of  almost  unbearable  anticipation  as  they  waited 
for  the  great  day. 

In  the  July  issue,  Tremaine  announced  that  effective  with  the  August 
issue  Astoxmding  Stories  would  contain  25,000  more  words  than  pre¬ 
vious  lyTgiWngTlieT^eaHer  one  more  novelette  or  two  more  short  stories, 
and  jumping  the  letter  section,  “Brass  Tacks,”  from  the  five  or  six 
pages  it  had  been  to  a  permanent  ten  or  twelve  pages.  This  increase 
in  wordage  in  addition  to  the  increase  in  pages  with  the  March  issue 
made  Astounding  the  biggest  and  least  expensive  magazine  in  the  field. 

Howard  V.  Brown’s  memorable  cover  for  August,  picturing  a  gigantic 
space  ship  viewed  three-quarters  head-on  had  emblazoned  down  one 
side  of  it  in  letters  taking  up  fully  half  the  cover,  THE  SKYLARK  OF 


September,  1934;  “Skylark  of  Valeron,”  illustration  by  Dold. 


26 


ALVA  ROGERS 


VALERON,  by  Edward  E.  Smith,  Ph.D. — and  the  climactic  episode  of 
the  great  Skylark  Saga  was  begun  with  the  first  of  seven  installments. 

The  present  generation  of  fans,  those  who  started  reading  science 
fiction  in  the  more  sophisticated  forties  or  fifties,  are  inclined  to  dis¬ 
miss  the  “Skylark”  novels  as  quaint  relics  of  the  dawn  years  of  science 
fiction.  But  to  the  fan  of  an  earlier  generation,  a  novel  by  E.  E.  Smith, 
Ph.D.  was  an  adventure  in  reading  scarcely  to  be  equaled.  The  sweep 
of  a  Smith  novel  that  used  the  entire  galaxy  (and  then  some)  as  a  stage, 
the  slashing  space  battles  so  well  described,  the  super-human  qualities 
of  Richard  Seaton  and  Martin  Crane  who  (with  a  little  help  here  and 
there  from  friendly  alien  races)  overcome  the  most  inconceivable 
obstacles,  and  that  wicked  but  delightfully  wonderful  villain.  Dr.  Marc 
C.  “Blackie”  DuQuesne,  all  combined  to  enthrall  the  reader  as  very 
few  science  fiction  stories  are  able  to  do  today.  It  is  probable  that 
never  before  or  since  in  the  history  of  science  fiction  have  any  stories 
so  captured  the  fan's  imagination  and  favor  as  did  the  “Skylark”  stories. 

The  first,  “The  Skylark  of  Space,”  was  written  during  iVorld  War  I 
(with  the  collaboration  of  Mrs.  Lee  Hawkins  Garby  who  provided  the 
saccharine  love  interest),  and  submitted  to  and  rejected  by  a  dozen  or 
more  magazines  for  almost  ten  years  before  it  was  accepted  by 
Amazing  Stories  and  published  as  a  three-part  serial  beginning  with 
the  Aug^t,  1928  issue.  And  with  its  publication  science  fiction  was 
forever  freed  from  the  confining  limits  of  our  Solar  system.  This 
novel  was  the  first  to  deal  to  any  extent  with  the  incredible  power  to 
be  had  from  the  release  of  intra-atomic  energy  and  its  application  to 
space  travel.  The  Skylark  and  its  passengers  tour  the  universe,  en¬ 
countering  all  sorts  of  wild  and  wonderful  adventures,  strange  beings, 
and  creatures,  and  marvels  beyond  compare. 

In  the  second  novel,  “Skylark  Three”  (Amazing,  August-Cctober, 
1930),  wonder  piles  upon  wonder,  ending  with  the  creation  of  the  two- 
mile-long,  Skylark  HI,  the  epic  battle  between  the  giant  Skylark  and 
the  last  of  the  evil  race  of  the  Fenachrone  in  their  inter-galactic 
cruiser  in  extra-galactic  space,  and  the  utter,  final,  total  and  complete 
annihilation  of  Seaton’s  old  enemy  Blackie  DuQuesne  who  was  reduced 
to  dust  by  a  Fenachrone  heat  ray.  By  killing  off  DuQuesne — a  key 
character  in  the  series— Smith  hoped  to  kill  off  the  Skylark  series 
which  he  felt  was  based  on  a  universe  that  was  mathematically  inde¬ 
fensible,  It  was  not  science  fiction  at  all,  but  pseudo-science.  In  his 
next  novel,  “Spacehounds  of  the  IPC”  (Amazing,  July-September,  1931), 
he  wrote  what  he  considers  his  only  science  fiction  novel,  with  a  uni¬ 
verse  based  on  what  is  now  known  as  the  ion-drive  and  the  action  con¬ 
fined  to  the  Solar  system.  But  the  fans  weren’t  buying  it;  “Doc” 
Smith  had  to  be  a  Galactic  Roamer,  not  a  stay-at-home  stick-in-the- 
mud. 

Dr.  Smith  had  not  planned,  and  did  not  want  to  write  a  sequel  to 
“Skylark  Three.”  He  was  talked  into  it.  Tremaine,  in  his  unceasing 
effort  to  build  the  circulation  of  his  magazine,  knew  that  a  new  “Sky¬ 
lark”  novel  would  be  a  big  boost  to  Astounding’s  prestige  and  circu- 


ALVA  ROGERS 


lation.  He  asked  Smith  for  it.  He  wanted  it;  to  such  an  extent  that  he 
published  the  rough  draft  sent  to  him  for  comment  and  criticism  Instead 
of  returning  it  to  the  author  for  final  polishing!  Incidentally,  Blackie 
DuQuesne,  in  the  best  Perils  of  Pauline  cliff-hanging  tradition,  turns 
out  not  to  have  been  killed  after  all  and  shows  up  to  continue  to  plague 
Seaton  and  Crane. 

So  popular  have  the  “Skylark*  stories  been  over  the  years  that  Doc 
Smith  finally  gave  in  and  wrote  the  fourth  and  final  “Skylark,”  published 
in  IF  Worl^  of  Science  Fiction  (June-September,  1965)  as  ‘Skylark 
DuQuesne. To  ^predate  this  title  it  would  be  well  to  recall  what 
happened  to  DuQuesne  at  the  conclusion  of  “Skylark  of  Vale ron*:  Seaton 
dematerialized  DuQuesne  leaving  him  a  pure  intellect,  immaterial  and 
immortal;  then  he  compressed  him  into  a  spherical  capsule  and  sur¬ 
rounded  him  with  a  stasis  of  time ;  he  then  shot  him  into  space  at  an 
acceleration  of  approximately  three  times  ten  to  the  twelfth  centi¬ 
meters  per  second  per  second,  on  a  trip  that  would  last  better  than 
one  hundred  thousand  million  years,  and  finally,  to  make  sure  he  would 
have  a  hard  time  finding  his  way  back,  the  capsule  was  programmed 
to  rotate  into  the  fourth  dimension  at  the  end  of  this  Inconceivable 
journey.  So  you  can  see,  the  new  novel  offers  tantalizing  possibilities. 

For  the  first  time  in  the  short  history  of  Astounding,  a  novel  was 
given  two  consecutive  covers.  “The  Skylark  of  Valeron*  was  featured 
on  the  cover  of  the  September  issue  and  the  second  installment  domi¬ 
nated  the  contents  of  the  magazine.  Williamson’s  “The  Legion  of 
Space*  concluded  in  this  issue,  and  the  sixth  installment  of  Charles 
Fort’s  *LoI*was  present  with  two  more  to  go.  In  addition  to  the  three 
serials,  there  were  two  novelettes,  five  short  stories  and  ten  pages  of 
“Brass  Tacks*;  Astounding  was  now  indeed  bursting  with  goodies. 

In  October,  C.  L.  Moore,  who  had  been  establishing  an  enviable 
reputation  in  Weird  Tales  with  her  “Northwest  Smith*  stories,  made 
her  first  appearance  in  Astounding  with  a  brilliant  novelette,  “The 
Bright  Illusion.”  This  was  a  story  of  a  cataclysmic  death  struggle 
between  two  strange  gods  and  of  two  beings,  one  human  and  the  other 
weirdly  imhiunan,  caught  in  the  backlash  of  this  war  of  gods,  and  of 
their  love  which  triumphs  over  the  complete  and  utter  alienness  of 
their  two  physical  forms  and  cultural  matrices,  told  in  the  colorfully 
vivid  style  that  was  to  be  Miss  Moore’s  trademark. 

November  featured  a  thought  variant  “novel*  by  Murray  Leinster, 
“The  Mole  Pirate,*  about  a  gadget  that  permitted  one  to  pass  unhinder¬ 
ed  and  unharmed  through  solid  matter,  and  “The  Great  Thirst”  by  Nat 
Schachner,  a  story  about  the  recently  discovered  heavy  water  and  its 
potential  force.  This  issue  also  contained  the  fourth  dazzling  install¬ 
ment  of  “The  Skylark  of  Valeron,*  and  the  concluding  installment  of 
Charles  Fort’s  “Lol”  But  walking  away  with  all  honors  was  a  short 
story,  “Twilight”  by  a  new  author,  Don  A.  Stuart. 

Don  A.  Stuart,  it  was  eventually  revealed,  was  the  pseudonym  of 
John  W.  Campbell,  Jr.  Campbell,  in  the  brief  time  since  the  publica- 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  29 

tion  of  his  first  story,  “When  the  Atoms  Failed”  (Amazing,  January, 
1930),  when  he  was  just  nineteen  years  old,  was  already  regarded  as 
the  second  greatest  living  writer  of  science  fiction;  second  only  to  E. 
E.  Smith.  Even  though  he  had  been  writing  for  only  four  years,  Camp¬ 
bell  had  been  considerably  more  prolific,  with  eight  short  stories,  two 
novelettes,  and  four  novels  in  that  short  time,  than  had  Smith  with  five 
novels  over  a  seven  year  span.  Campbell’s  reputation  as  the  near 
equal  of  Smith  as  a  master  of  super  science  was  based  primarily  on 
his  two  novelettes  and  three  of  his  four  novels,  the  “Arcot,  Wade,  and 
Morey”  stories,  so  called  after  the  names  of  the  main  characters  of 
these  super  extravagant  epics:  “Piracy  Preferred”  (Amazing,  June, 
1930);  “Solarite”  (Amazing,  November,  1930);  “The  Black  Star  Passes” 
(Amazing  Stories  Quarterly,  Fall,  1930);  “The  Islands  of  Space” 
(Amazing  Stories  Quarterly,  Spring,  1931),  and  “Invaders  from  the 
Infinite”  (Amazing  Stories  Quarterly,  Spring-Summer,  1932).  Camp¬ 
bell,  who  had  been  a  student  at  MIT  and  a  physics  major  at  Dtike, 
larded  his  stories,  particularly  the  novels,  with  pages  of  impressive 
but  nearly  incomprehensible  and  dull  explanations  of  his  scientific 
wonders,  but  surmounted  this  fault  with  the  sheer  brilliance  of  his 
concepts  and  his  natural  bom  genius  for  story  telling. 

“Twilight”  was  a  completely  radical  departure  in  idea  and  style  from 
that  which  was  identified  with  him  and  was  rejected  by  all  the  editors 
he  submitted  it  to.  Tremaine,  when  he  finally  received  it,  was  over¬ 
whelmed  by  it  and  scheduled  it  for  as  early  publication  as  possible. 
However,  he  had  a  problem.  He  had  already  purchased  a  sensationally 
cosmic  novel  from  Campbell,  one  to  rival  the  powerful  “Skylark  of 
Valeron,”  to  start  in  December  and  was  planning  to  start  publicizing  it 
in  the  October  issue.  He  found  a  slot  for  “Twilight”  in  the  November 
issue,  but  if  it  were  published  under  Campbell’s  name  it  would  detract 
from  his  publicity  campaign  for  the  great  Campbell  novel  which  was  to 
climax  the  year.  He  was  playing  up  big  the  fact  that  in  just  one  year 
as  editor  he  had  managed  to  snag  the  two  greatest  names  in  science 
fiction  with  their  greatest  novels  to  date,  and  didn't  want  anything  to 
lessen  the  impact  of  that.  Campbell  solved  his  dilemma  by  adopting 
the  name  Don  A.  Stuart,  from  his  wife’s  maiden  name.  Dona  Stuart. 

Don  A.  Stuart  created  something  of  a  sensation  with  his  first  story, 
a  picture  of  the  twilight  of  Earth,  seven  million  years  in  the  future. 
Although  “Twilight”  contained  a  strong  idea  element,  it  was  essentially 
a  beautifully  and  effectively  and  almost  poetically  written  tone  poem,  a 
stoi7  that  imparted  a  feeling  of  the  endlessness  of  time  and  the  aching 
loneliness  of  a  dying  Earth. 

Whether  he  intended  it  or  not,  Tremaine  produced  in  the  December, 
1934  Astounding  what  many  old  time  fans  consider  the  greatest  single 
issue  the  magazine  has  ever  seen.  Howard  V.  Brown’s  powerful  cover 
painting  of  a  huge  and  complex  engine,  illustrated  the  latest  and  great¬ 
est  of  John  W.  Campbell,  Jr.’s  cosmically  scaled  superscience  tales, 
“The  Mightiest  Machine.”  Starring  Aam  Munro,  a  mental  and  physical 
superman  bom  and  reared  on  the  planet  Jupiter  of  parents  descended 


30 


ALVA  ROGERS 


from  Earthmen,  this  novel  eclipsed  all  his  previous  ones  in  concept, 
scope  of  action,  multiples  of  light  speeds  traveled  by  his  space  ships, 
and  the  use  of  incomprehensible  and  universe  shattering  forces.  “The 
Mightiest  Machine”  as  well  as  “The  Skylark  of  Valeron”  marked  the 
apogee  of  the  super  science  epic  in  Astounding  and  science  fiction 
generally.  There  would  be  more  in  the  years  to  come,  but  none  ap¬ 
proaching  the  unique  and  exuberant  quality  of  these  two  novels. 
Campbell,  from  this  point  on,  would  add  to  and  enhance  his  reputation 
with  his  Don  A.  Stuart  stories;  Smith  would  continue  to  be  a  Galactic 
Roamer,  but  more  logical  and  mature  than  in  his  “Skylark”  period. 

This  issue  seemed  almost  an  all- Campbell  issue  for  in  addition  to 
his  novel  he  had  his  second  Don  A.  Stuart  story,  “Atomic  Power,”  in 
which  scientists  prevent  the  destruction  of  our  solar  system  by  atomic 
experimenters  in  the  macrocosm,  and  “The  Irrelevant”  written  under 
the  name  of  Karl  Van  Kampen,  which  seemingly  violated  the  law  of 
conservation  of  energy,  and  stirred  up  a  heated  controversy  in  “Brass 
Tacks”  for  months  to  follow. 

Sharing  top  billing  with  “The  Mightiest  Machine”  was  the  fifth  in¬ 
stallment  of  “The  Skylark  of  Valeron”  which  was  entirely  devoted  to 
relating  the  story  of  Valeron  and  the  hideous  enemy  that  assaulted  its 
civilization. 

Rounding  out  the  issue  was  Donald  Wandrei’s  “Colossus  Eternal,” 
the  sequel  to  “Colossus”  (January,  1934),  in  which  the  hero  comes  at 
last  to  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  all  creation,  and  “Old  Faithful”  by 
Raymond  Z.  Gallun  which  dealt  with  the  problem  of  communication 
between  Earth  and  Mars,  and  the  Martian  Number  774’s  (the  “Old 
Faithful”  of  the  title)  heroic  and  tragic  solution  to  the  problem.  This 
was  one  of  the  most  popxilar  stories  of  the  year,  a  popularity  that 
would  lead  to  two  sequels  over  the  next  two  years  adding  up  to  one  of 
the  most  fondly  remembered  series  of  the  thirties. 

In  the  twelve  months  just  past,  Astoimding  leaped  almost  overnight 
to  the  leading  position  in  the  science  fiction  field,  a  position  it  was  to 
hold  practically  uncontested  for  most  of  the  next  thirty  years.  And  as 
far  as  Astounding  itself  is  concerned,  1934  remains  one  of  the  most 
important  and  significant  years  in  its  entire  history.  In  these  twelve 
issues,  Tremaine  probably  published  more  superior  and  more  memora¬ 
ble  stories  than  appeared  in  all  34  issues  of  the  Clayton  Astounding 
and  with  the  institution  of  the  thought  variant  policy  he  encouraged  his 
writers  to  deal  more  in  ideas  than  in  action,  without  abandoning  action 
and  conflict  altogether.  The  idea,  or  gadget  story  remained  pre¬ 
eminently  identified  with  Astoimding  for  the  next  two-and-one-half 
years,  but  it  was  in  1934  that  it  was  probably  given  the  heaviest 
emphasis. 

1934  was  the  year  that  gave  us  “Rebirth,”  “The  Legion  of  Space,” 
and  Harry  Bates  with  a  story,  “A  Matter  of  Size,”  as  different  in  ideas 
and  literary  execution  as  it  could  possibly  be  from  anything  he  wrote 
in  the  Clajdon  Astounding  as  Anthony  Gilmore.  It  was  a  year  which 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  31 

saw  the  first  serial-length  article  published  in  Astounding,  Charles 
Fort’s  irreverent  (toward  established  science)  collection  of  mysteries, 
“Lo!”  The  year  in  which  Murray  Leinster  came  up  with  the  first 
multiple  time  streams  story,  “Sidewise  in  Time.”  (This,  however,  is 
disputed  by  some  authorities  who  attribute  this  milestone  to  Francis 
Stevens  and  her  novel  “The  Heads  of  Cerberus”  published  serially  in 
Street  &  Smith’s  Thrill  Book  in  1919,  and  later  published  in  a  limited 
edition  by  Polaris  Press,  a  subsidiary  of  Fantasy  Press,  in  1952.) 
1934  will  long  be  remembered  as  the  year  in  which  both  E.  E.  Smith, 
Ph.D.  and  John  W.  Campbell,  Jr.  appeared  simultaneously  with  an  in¬ 
stallment  of  their  greatest  epics  to  that  date. 

1934  was  also  the  year  in  which  Howard  V.  Brown  on  covers  and 
Elliott  Bold  on  interior  illustrations  provided  some  of  the  best  science 
fiction  artwork  of  all  time.  Howard  Brown  had  a  number  of  covers  on 
Gernsback’s  Electrical  Experimenter  back  in  1916  and  1917,  or  there¬ 
abouts,  depicting  future  inventions,  but  his  employment  as  cover  artist 
for  the  new  Street  &  Smith  Astounding  Stories  was  the  first  utilization 
of  this  veteran  artist’s  superior  talents  by  a  science  fiction  magazine. 
Elliott  Bold  had  been  a  commercial  artist,  scenic  painter,  and  illustra¬ 
tor  before  the  World  War.  After  the  war  he  drifted  into  the  pulp  maga¬ 
zine  field  and  all  through  the  twenties  did  covers  and  some  black  and 
white  illustrations,  mostly  for  western  and  adventure  magazines.  In 
1930  he  conceived  the  idea  for  Miracle  Science  and  Fantasy  Stories, 
and  talked  Howard  Hersey  into  publishing  it  while  he  rounded  up  most 
of  its  contributors  himself,  including  his  brother  Douglas.  The  two 
issues  of  this  magazine  (April-May  and  Jime-July,  1931)  featured 
covers  by  Bold  as  well  as  most  of  the  interior  illustrations,  and  his 
only  published  work  of  fantasy,  “The  Bowl  of  Death,”  a  novel  in  the 
last  issue.  The  magazine  folded  due  mainly  to  Bold’s  illness  at  the 
time  and  his  inability  to  keep  up  with  the  editorial  chores.  With  the 
possible  exception  of  one  or  two  unsigned  drawings  in  earlier  issues 
which  might  have  been  his.  Bold’s  first  appearance  in  Astounding  was 
in  the  April,  1934  issue.  By  the  end  of  the  year  with  his  superb  illus¬ 
trations  for  “The  Skylark  of  Valeron”  and  “The  Mightiest  Machine,” 
Bold  was  unquestionably  the  most  exciting  illustrator  in  the  field. 

This  year  served  to  introduce  to  the  readers  of  Astounding  the  in¬ 
comparable  C.  L.  Moore  with  her  beautiful  and  haunting  novelette, 
“The  Bright  Hlusion.”  But  most  importantly  it  introduced  Don  A. 
Stuart  with  the  classic  “Twilight,”  an  event  of  far-reaching  signifi¬ 
cance  for,  as  Campbell  said  in  the  introduction  to  his  first  Don  A. 
Stuart  collection:  “It  led  to  the  development  of  the  Don  A.  Stuart 
stories,  and  thus  to  the  modern  Astounding.”  (Who  Goes  There?, 
Shasta,  1948.) 

And  along  with  all  this  there  was  the  atmosphere  of  excitement 
surrounding  Astounding,  the  knowledge  that  great  things  were  happen¬ 
ing  and  the  feeling  that  even  greater  things  might  be  expected  in  the 
future,  that  the  potential  of  Astounding  was  limitless.  In  all,  for  the 
rabid  fans  a  highly  satisfying  twelve  months. 


CHAPTER  III 


THE  MID-THIRTIES  1935-1937 


The  pattern  set  by  Tremaine  in  1934  was  to  be  continued 
without  much  change  in  1935  with  a  continuing  emphasis 
placed  on  the  thought  variant,  better  plots  and  newer  ideas, 
and  the  acquisition  of  the  best  writers  in  the  field.  In  his 
editorial  for  January,  titled  “Into  1935,®  Tremaine  looked 
back  at  the  year  just  past  with  understandable  satisfaction,  and  into 
the  year  ahead  with  optimism: 

“And  now  in  the  new  year,  if  we  keep  driving  through,  interesting 
new  readers,  our  aim  is  to  go  twice-a-month. 

“We’ve  awakened  the  whole  field  of  science  fiction  from  the  coma  in 
which  it  rested  in  1932  and  early  1933.  It  has  been  a  happy  awakening 
with  new  interest,  new  writers  here  and  there  and  a  scintillating  galaxy 
of  great  stories  to  remember  in  1934. 

“1935  stretches  ahead  full  of  promise  for  greater  things.  We  have 
been  building  carefully  and  well.  All  of  us,  thinking  back,  realize  that. 
‘Star-Ship  Invincible’  (the  lead  story  for  January,  by  Frank  K.  Kelly) 
would  not  likely  have  grown  on  the  barren  soil  of  1933.” 

Astounding,  to  the  great  disappointment  of  most  fans,  never  went  bi- 
weekly,  but  otherwise  it  lived  up  to  the  expectations  of  its  editor  and 
the  fans.  There  would  be  nothing  to  equal  “The  Skylark  of  Valeron”  or 
“The  Mightiest  Machine”  making  an  appearance  this  year,  although 
both  these  classics  were  carried  into  and  concluded  in  1935.  But  to 
offset  this  there  would  be  John  Taine,  Don  A.  Stuart,  and  the  new  sen¬ 
sation,  Stanley  G.  Weinbaum.  Not  to  mention  Murray  Leinster,  Jack 
Williamson,  Harry  Bates,  Nat  Schachner,  and  Raymond  Z.  Gallim. 

John  Taine  (Dr.  Eric  Temple  Bell,  Professor  of  Mathematics,  Cali¬ 
fornia  Institute  of  Technology),  before  his  death  in  1960  wrote  thirteen 
science  fiction  novels,  three  science  fiction  short  stories,  and anumber 
of  technical  and  semi-technical  books  dealing  with  mathematics.  As  a 
science  fiction  author,  John  Taine  was  in  the  very  first  rank,  his  books 


32 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


33 


considered  classics.  His  sole  appearance  in  Astounding  was  with  a 
five-part  serial  beginning  in  May,  “Twelve  Eighty-Seven,”  a  fine  novel 
of  biological  warfare  between  the  East  and  the  West  that,  despite  its 
obvious  merits,  received  a  mixed  reception  from  the  fans. 

Don  A.  Stuart  followed  15)  his  signal  successes  of  the  previous  year 
with  six  outstanding  stories  in  1935.  This  was  a  veritable  flood  of 
stories ;  for  in  the  next  four  years,  until  he  stopped  writing  in  1939, 
“Stuart”  only  wrote  a  total  of  seven  novelettes  and  one  novel  (“The 
Elder  Gods”  featured  in  the  October,  1939  issue  of  Unknown),  two  in 
each  year.  “The  Machine,”  the  first  tale  in  “The  Teachers”  series,  or 
as  it  is  more  commonly  called,  “The  Machine”  series,  appeared  in 
February.  This  story  told  of  the  abandonment  of  humanity  for  its  own 
good  by  a  sentient  machine  which  had  provided  it  with  every  luxury. 
In  “The  Invaders,”  the  second  of  the  series  in  June,  Mankind  has  sunk 
to  savagery  and  is  enslaved  by  invading  extraterrestrials,  the  Tharoo. 
Three  thousand  years  later,  Man  throws  off  the  yoke  of  slavery  and 
drives  the  Tharoo  forever  from  Earth  in  the  final  story  in  the  series, 
“Rebellion,”  in  the  August  issue.  This  was  adult  science  fiction  on  a 
theme  Campbell  would  return  to  in  the  “Aesir*  stories  a  few  years 
later.  “Blindness,”  in  March,  was  a  little  tale  of  irony  and  pathos, 
about  a  scientist  who  is  blinded  as  he  almost  literally  journeys  to  the 
sun  to  bring  atomic  power  back  to  Earth  and  finds  on  his  return  that 
one  of  his  earlier  discoveries  has  already  given  Earth  a  cheaper  power 
source.  His  atomic  power  is  not  wanted.  “The  Escape,”  May’s  Stuart 
story,  was  written  by  CampbeU  on  a  dare  that  he  couldn’t  write  a  love 
story  within  a  science  fiction  frame.  Campbell  told  of  a  boy  and  girl’s 
attempt  to  escape  the  implacable  will  of  the  genetics  board  which  had 
the  girl  lined  up  for  pairing  with  another  boy.  They’re  cauj^t,  and  the 
girl  is  psychologically  conditioned  to  love  the  “right”  man.  In  October 
Campbell  returned  to  the  haimting  mood  of  “Twilight”  in  the  sequel  to 
that  story,  “Night,”  in  which  a  man  of  today  travels  to  the  ultimate 
future  limits  of  time  and  there  gains  insight  to  the  true  meaning  of 
man  and  his  relationship  to  his  machines.  A  beautiful  story  and  a 
fitting  sequel  to  the  first. 

1935  was  essentially  Stanley  G.  Weinbaum’s  year.  Weinbaum  ex¬ 
ploded  on  the  science  fiction  world  with  the  impact  of  a  100-megaton 
bomb  with  his  first  story,  “A  Martian  Odyssey,”  in  the  July,  1934 
Wonder  Stories.  On  December  14,  1935,  Stanley  G.  Weinbaum  died  of 
cancer  at  the  age  of  thirty-three,  cutting  short  almost  before  it  began 
a  writing  career  that  promised  to  be  one  of  the  most  brilliant  ever  to 
come  out  of  science  fiction.  But  in  that  brief  breath  of  time  he  produced 
seventeen  stories  and  three  posthumously  published  novels  on  his  own, 
one  story  in  collaboration  with  his  sister,  Helen,  and  two  in  collabora¬ 
tion  with  his  good  friend  and  mentor,  Ralph  Milne  Farley.  Of  this 
total,  ten  were  published  in  Astounding,  seven  of  them  in  1935:  “Fli^t 
on  Titan”  (January),  “Parasite  Planet’’ (February) ;  “The  Lotus  Eaters* 
(April),  “The  Planet  of  Doubt”  (October),  “The  Red  Peri”  (November), 
and  “The  Mad  Moon”  (December).  These  were  all  interplanetary 


adventures  with  original  plots,  crisp,  believable  dialogue,  and  mature 
and  human  love  mieresis.  The  uniquely  vior  ihai  iime)  diatinguishing 
feature  of  Weinbaum’s  interplanetary  stories  was  in  his  attribution  of 
genuinely  non-human,  non-Earthly  characteristics  to  alien  forms  of 
life  found  on  other  planets. 

vVeinbaum,  who  studied  chemical  engineering  at  the  University  of 
Wisconsin,  took  particular  pains  with  the  science  content  of  his  stories 
and  they  are  all  models  of  accuracy  in  fact  and  logic  and  reason  in 
extrapolation.  However,  in  one  of  his  best  stories,  “The  Red  Peri,” 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  35 


January,  1935;  “Mightiest  Machine,”  by  John  W.  Campbell. 
Illustration  by  Bold. 


he  violated  one  of  the  most  inviolable  “facts"  of  science  fiction:  that 
man  cannot  survive  even  for  a  minute  in  the  vacuum  and  absolute 
zero  of  space  without  some  form  of  protection.  Weinbaum  had  two  of 
his  characters  traverse  a  thousand  feet  of  Plutonian  landscape  un¬ 
protected  by  any  form  of  spacesuit  without  either  freezing  to  death  or 
exploding-.  Possible  or  not,  he  defended  his  audacity  with  impressive 
arguments. 


ALVA  ROGERS 


The  seventh  Weinbaum  story  in  1935  was  one  written  under  apseudo- 
nym,  John  Jessel,  the  justly  famous  “The  Adaptive  Ultimate”  in  the 
November  issue.  This  was  not  an  interplanetary  story,  but  one  of 
laboratory  science  in  which  a  serum  derived  from  fruit  flies  is  injected 
into  a  girl  dying  of  tuberculosis.  The  serum  brings  about  a  dramatic 
cure  and  at  the  same  time  endows  her,  due  to  some  vague  hormonal 
action,  with  the  ability  to  physically  adapt  in  every  way  instantly  to 
any  environment.  The  story  has  been  adapted  for  theatrical  presenta¬ 
tion  numerous  times,  both  for  motion  pictures  and  television.  The 
enthusiastic  response  to  this  story  was  evidence  that  Weinbaum’s 
reputation  rested  solidly  on  his  ability  as  a  writer,  regardless  of  what 
name  he  wrote  under. 

Harry  Bates  returned  in  June  with  a  marvelous  novelette,  “Alas,  All 
Thinking!  ”  This  is  a  story  of  the  extinction  of  Genus  Homo  Superior 
three  million  years  from  now  by  a  man  from  the  present  who  is  trans¬ 
ported  to  that  remote  time  in  a  time  machine  operated  by  one  of  the 
forty-one  remaining  members  of  the  race  of  Man.  The  story  is  told 
with  humor  and  irony  in  its  examination  of  the  meaning  of  intelligence 
and  thought  and  its  terminus  in  the  incomprehensibly  distant  future, 
but  at  the  same  time  it  has  a  mood  overlying  it  and  underscoring  its 
message  that  is  comparable  to  the  feeling  Stuart  transmitted  in  “Twi¬ 
light”  and  “Night.” 

In  September  C.  L.  Moore  returned  to  Astounding  with  her  second 
science -fantasy  novelette,  “Greater  Glories,”  a  weird  and  wonderful 
tale  of  a  strange  presence  on  a  deserted  isle,  a  mood  piece  of  almost 
hypnotic  quality,  beautifully  written  in  the  inimitable  Moore  style .  In 
March,  Murray  Leinster  found  favor  with  a  great  space  tale,  “Proxima 
Centauri.”  Nat  Schachner  continued  to  present  popular,  although  not 
great,  stories  in  this  year:  “Mind  of  the  World”  (March),  “Son  of  Red- 
mask”  (August),  sequel  to  his  fine  “Redmask  of  the  Outlands,”  “The 
Orb  of  Probability”  (June),  and  a  two-part  serial,  “I  Am  Not  God” 
(October-November).  Jack  Williamson,  ever  popular,  had  a  thought 
variant  novelette  in  August,  “The  Galactic  Circle,”  dealing  in  a  grand 
manner  with  space  and  time  and  followed  it  in  September  with  a  two- 
part  thought  variant  novel  concerning  the  gaseous  origins  of  the  Earth 
— the  planets  with  their  civilizations  floated  like  islands  within  the 
fiery  sea  of  the  Sim, in  a  sort  of  subspace  protected  by  etheric  shields. 
This  was  titled,  oddly  enough,  “Islands  of  the  Sun*  (September-October). 
And  Raymond  Z.  Gallun,  responding  to  the  insistent  requests  for  a 
sequel  to  “Old  Faithful,”  his  immensely  popular  novelette  in  December, 
1934  obliged  with  “The  Son  of  Old  Faithful,”  the  cover  story  for  July, 
a  story  every  bit  as  popular  as  the  first. 

This  is  actually  just  a  skimming  of  the  surface  of  all  the  well- 
remembered  stories  of  this  year,  but  it  is  representative  of  the  best 
as  well  as  of  some  of  the  more  popular  stories  printed.  In  some  re¬ 
spects  the  year  was  not  up  to  the  one  previous  in  terms  of  individually 
outstanding  and  memorable  stories,  but  in  terms  of  literary  quality  it 
was  undoubtedly  superior  with  the  wealth  of  Stuart  and  Weinbaum  gems 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


37 


STORI] 

NOVEMBER  I95S 


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■  vf ^ 

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38 


ALVA  ROGERS 


that  pointed  the  way  to  a  new  and  betterand  more  mature  science  fiction. 

Howard  V.  Brown,  if  anything,  excelled  over  his  work  of  1934  with 
some  outstanding  covers,  and  Elliott  Bold,  with  his  magnificently 
imaginative  and  stark  drawings,  handled  most  of  the  interior  artwork, 
with  a  feeble  assist  from  Marchioni,  a  pale  imitator  of  Bold.  A  sad 
announcement  was  made  in  December  when  Tremaine  disclosed  that 
Bold  had  been  suffering  from  increasingly  frequent  periods  of  nerves 
and  illness  and  would  have  to  take  a  complete  rest  for  a  year,  (There 
was  also  an  unconfirmed  rumor  that  Bold’s  eyesight  was  beginning  to 
fail  him.  True  or  not.  Bold’s  great  productive  period  ended  with  1935 
and  henceforth,  for  the  next  three  years  or  so,  this  great  artist  would 
be  represented  in  Astounding  with  at  the  most  two  or  three  illustrations 
per  issue,  and  sometimes  not  at  all.)  To  offset  this  sad  news, Tremaine 
promised  more  work  from  Marchioni — which  elicited  few  cheers— and 
the  return  of  Wesso  to  Astounding — which  ^  elicit  cheers. 

Virtually  unremarked  by  anyone  was  the  appearance  in  the  July 
issue  of  a  new  artist,  an  artist  who  would  one  day  be  considered  one  of 
the  greatest  black  and  white  illustrators  of  science  fiction,  and  who 
would  forever  be  identified  with  the  Golden  Age  of  Astounding;  Charles 
Schneeman. 

1936  found  Astounding  leveling  off  somewhat  from  the  preceding  two 
years  with  a  marked  lessening  of  the  aura  of  excitement  that  had  sur¬ 
rounded  the  magazine .  One  might  almost  say  the  magazine  had  settled 
into  a  comfortable  thought  variant  rut  and  only  ventured  out  of  it  when 
something  out  of  the  ordinary  that  was  too  good  to  let  by  came  along. 
Tremaine  most  certainly  had  literary  taste,  as  witness  his  publishing 
Bon  A.  Stuart,  Stanley  G.  Weinbaum,  C.  L.  Moore,  and  other  stylists, 
but  the  idea  was  still  of  overriding  importance,  as  Tremaine  as  much 
as  admitted  in  his  editorial  for  April; 

“Also,  I  am  pleased  to  note  the  response  to  idea  stories  by  writers 
(to  ‘Brass  Tacks’)  whose  thoughts  explore  new  byways.  It  proves  our 
audience  is  a  thinking  audience.  Style,  while  desirable,  is  not  all  im¬ 
portant  to  us.” 

This  continuing  emphasis  on  greater  and  greater  thought  variant 
ideas  led  to  a  monotonous  similarity  to  much  of  the  material  in  this 
and  the  following  year.  Ideas,  of  course,  are  essential  to  good  science 
fiction;  science  fiction  by  definition  is  a  form  of  literature  based  solidly 
on  ideas.  But  form,  mood,  characterization,  and  style  are  not  to  be 
totally  disregarded.  However,  in  spite  of  the  emphasis  on  thought 
variants  there  were  a  number  of  memorable  events  during  the  year 
and,  unquestionably,  Astoimding  was  still  head  and  shoulders  above  its 
competitors. 

Trimmed  edges,  which  had  long  been  begged  for  by  Astounding 
readers,  were  given  them  with  the  February  issue.  This  enhanced  the 
physical  appearance  of  the  magazine  tremendously  and  made  Astounding 
the  most  elegant  science  fiction  magazine  on  the  newsstands. 

The  most  notable  occurrence  of  1936  was  the  publication  of  two  im- 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  39 

portant  short  novels  by  H.  P.  Lovecraft,  the  great  writer  of  weird 
fiction  who  has  been  described  in  some  circles  as  the  modern  equal  of 
Edgar  Allan  Poe.  The  first  of  these,  “At  the  Mountains  of  Madness,” 
was  presented  as  a  three-part  serial  beginning  in  February.  One  of 
Lovecraft’s  longest  stories,  it  told  of  an  Antarctic  expedition  sponsored 
by  Miskatonic  University  of  Arkham  which  unearths  and  releases  from 
eons-long  imprisonment  remnants  of  the  “Elder  Ones”— beings  of 
awesome  might  who  had  inhabited  the  Earth  millennia  ago.  Although 
objected  to  as  being  weird  and  not  science  fiction  by  a  few  purists,  the 
majority  of  readers  writing  in  to  “Brass  Tacks”  raved  over  it  and 
asked  for  more  Lovecraft. 

In  “The  Shadow  Out  of  Time,”  a  complete  short  novel  in  June— which 
rated  one  of  Brown’s  best  covers  of  the  year— Lovecraft  painted  a 
weird  and  wonderful  word  picture  of  ancient  horrors  that  involved 
time,  archaeology,  and  mind  exchange. 

Jack  Williamson’s  “The  Legion  of  Space”  had  been  one  of  the  most 
popular  novels  published  so  far  in  the  new  Astounding,  and  demands 
for  a  sequel  had  been  pretty  constant  since  its  appearance  in  1934.  In 
May,  Williamson  brought  back  Jay  Kalam,  Commander  of  the  Legion, 
the  giant  but  gentle  Hal  Samdu,  and  the  chronically  complaining  but 
resourceful  old  Giles  Habibula  in  another  great  adventure  involving 
the  fate  of  the  Solar  system  as  it  is  menaced  by  the  invasion  of  “The 
Cometeers.”  This  was  a  four -part  serial  in  Williamson’s  best  space 
opera  form  with  a  blending  of  high  adventure,  colorful  characters, 
super  science,  and  descriptive  passages  of  rich  imagery  reminiscent 
of  A.  Merritt,  an  author  greatly  admired  by  Williamson. 

Murray  Leinster,  the  incomparable  craftsman  who  almost  never 
failed  to  turn  out  a  superior  story,  added  to  his  seemingly  endless 
string  of  fine  science  fiction  a  five-part  serial,  beginning  in  August, 
“The  Incredible  Invasion.”  This  was  a  story  of  invasion-with-a- 
purpose  from  the  fourth  dimension,  of  treachery  and  love  and  suspense, 
built  on  a  solid  foundation  of  speculative  science.  This  novel  was  later 
extensively  rewritten  by  Leinster  (and  updated  as  well  to  bring  in  the 
Soviet  Union  as  an  auxiliary  menace)  and  published  in  paperback  as 
The  Other  Side  of  Here  (Ace,  1955). 

Don  A.  Stuart  had  two  stories  in  1936,  “Elimination,”  a  short  story 
in  May  in  which  science  and  madness  are  linked  anda feature  novelette 
in  July,  “Frictional  Losses,”  which  was  another  treatment  of  one  of 
Stuart’s  favorite  themes,  the  invasion  and  conquest  of  Man  by  extra¬ 
terrestrials  in  which  humankind  is  ground  down,  scattered,  reduced  to 
impotency,  scorned  and  ignored  by  the  invaders,  only  to  boimce  back 
and  drive  them  away.  In  “Frictional  Losses”  the  Earth  is  attacked  and 
civilization  nearly  destroyed  by  the  invading  Granthee  with  their 
atomic  power  before  they,  the  Granthee,  are  finally  defeated.  The 
Earth  waits— powerless  and  exposed— for  the  second  wave  of  Granthee. 
But  in  the  nick  of  time  an  old  tinkerer  comes  up  with  a  saving  gadget 
that  spells  doom  for  the  invaders — a  gadget  that  destroys  friction. 

The  “Old  Faithful”  trilogy  was  completed  in  1936  with  the  appearance 


40 


ALVA  ROGERS 


Illustration  by  Bold. 


of  “Child  of  the  Stars”  in  April, 
and  Stanley  G.  Weinbaum’s  final 
three  stories  for  Astounding  were 
published  in  this  year.  The  first 
was  “Smothered  Seas,”  written 
with  Ralph  Milne  Farley,  a  story 
of  bacteriological  warfare  in  which 
algae  run  wild,  which  led  off  the 
January  issue.  The  second  was 
“Redemption  Cairn,”  a  novelette 
in  March,  which  was  anotherofhis 
interplanetary  adventures;  not  one 
of  his  best,  but  good  enough.  And 
on  the  editorial  page  following  this 
story,  Tremaine  announced  the 
sad  news  of  Weinbaum’s  death  the 
past  December.  The  last  of  Wein¬ 
baum’s  Astounding  stories  was 
“Proteus  Island”  hi  the  August 
issue.  This  told  of  a  remote  South 
Seas  island  on  which  synthetic 
evolution  had  taken  over,  another 
example  of  Weinbaum’s  versatility 
and  talent. 

In  the  forties  one  of  the  favorite 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  41 

areas  of  speculation  by  science  fiction  writers  was  religion;  religion 
exploited  for  power  to  maintain  theocratic  control  over  the  masses, 
usually  in  alliance  with  perverted  science,  or  in'  the  conversion  of 
science  into  a  religion.  Among  the  earliest  examples  of  this  fascinating 
theme  were  the  “Duma  Rangue”  stories  of  Neil  R.  Jones,  the  first  of 
which,  ‘Little  Hercules,”  appeared  in  the  September,  1936  Astounding. 
The  Duma  Rangue  was  a  religious  cult  that  had  existed  in  exile  for  a 
munber  of  centuries  in  Oberon,  a  satellite  of  Uranus,  which  finally 
combines  forces  with  space  pirates  and  with  superior  science  and 
weapons  invades  and  conquers  Earth,  establishing  a  harsh  theocratic 
government  over  the  entire  planet.  The  fusion  of  science  and  religion 
in  the  cult  of  the  Duma  Rangue  was  skillfully  and  convincingly  worked 
out,  and  undoubtedly  served  as  a  model  for  future  similar  theocracies. 

Nat  Schachner,  always  a  prolific  writer,  outdid  himself  in  1936  with 
ten  stories,  two  of  them  under  the  pseudon3mi  of  Chan  Corbett.  Six  of 
these  were  novelettes  and  one  a  two-part  novel,  “Infra- Uni  verse” 
(December,  1936 -January,  1937),  and  virtually  all  were  thought  variants . 
Schachner  has  been  dismissed  as  a  hack — largely  on  the  basis  of  his 
phenomenal  output— and  exploiter  of  the  thought  variant.  But  regardless 
of  his  critics  he  continued  to  please  a  large  number  of  fans  with  stories 
combining  action  and  ideas;  ideas  that  frequently  had  considerably 
more  depth  to  them  than  the  usual  thought  variant.  A  prime  example 
of  this  was  “Pacifica,”  which  gave  the  July  issue  one  of  the  three  best 
covers  of  the  year,  “Pacifica”  had  as  its  underlying  idea  the  extreme 
problem  of  over-population  at  the  turn  of  the  twenty-first  century,  and 
the  effort  to  provide  increased  living  space  for  crowded  humanity  by 
raising  a  new  continent  from  the  floor  of  the  Pacific. 

In  June,  John  W.  Campbell,  Jr.  began  a  series  of  articles  under  the 
general  title  of  “A  Study  of  the  Solar  System”  which  ran  for  eighteen 
consecutive  installments,  and  were  popularized  yet  scholarly  treatises 
on  the  main  features  of  the  Solar  system  narrated  with  great  style. 
This  was  one  of  the  highlights  of  the  1936-1937  Astoimding,  was  very 
popular  with  the  fans,  and  the  beginning  of  the  magazine’s  policy  of 
featuring  an  article  in  each  issue. 

In  spite  of  individual  high  spots  the  year  as  a  whole  was  disappoint¬ 
ingly  erratic .  It  was  obvious  by  the  end  of  the  year,  if  not  earlier, 
that  the  thought  variant  was  rapidly  becoming  a  dead  end;  that  the  idea, 
or  gadget  story  was  actually  contributing  to  a  sterility  of  ideas.  In 
1934  and  1935  there  was  direction  in  the  course  Astounding  was  follow¬ 
ing,  but  by  the  end  of  1936  the  magazine  seemed  to  be  floradering  in  a 
dead  sea  of  dead  ideas.  The  art  department  also  showed  a  drop  in 
quality  over  the  earlier  years;  Brown’s  covers  lacked  the  sparkle  and 
Sense  of  Wonder  that  made  his  earlier  covers  so  memorable.  Of  his 
twelve  covers  only  three  stand  out:  the  April  painting  of  a  silver  space 
ship  against  a  solid  background  of  blue,  illustrating  Eando  Binder’s 
two-part  novel  “Spawn  of  Eternal  Thought,”  was  perhaps  his  best  of 
the  year;  the  June  cover  for  Lovecraft’s  “The  Shadow  Out  of  Time” 
showed  his  skill  at  rendering  BEMs,  and  the  July  cover,  illustrating 


42 


ALVA  ROGERS 


Schachner’s  “Pacifica”  with  a  swarm  of  golden  space  ships  streaming 
from  a  cloudbank,  was  tremendously  effective.  The  interior  art  was 
saved  from  disaster  by  the  all  too  infrequent  appearances  of  Bold, 
Schneeman,  and  the  returned  Wesso. 

One  could  only  hope  for  better  things  in  the  coming  year. 

The  new  year  continued  more-or-less  on  the  course  set  in  1936  with 
a  continuing  emphasis  on  the  thought  variant,  whether  so  labeled  or 
not,  Nat  Schachner  continued  to  appear  with  reliable  regularity  both 
under  his  own  name  and  his  pseudonym  of  Chan  Corbett,  and  started 
his  popular  “Past,  Present,  and  Future”  series  in  September  with  the 
novelette  of  that  name.  Wesso  returned  to  the  covers  of  Astounding 
with  three  which  were  vastly  improved  in  concept  and  technique  over 
his  Clayton  Astounding  covers.  The  first  was  in  June  for  Nat  Schachner's 
“Earthspin,”  the  second  was  in  September  for  “Galactic  Patrol”  by 
Edward  E,  Smith,  Ph.D., and  the  third  for  Arthur  J. Burks’  “The  Golden 
Horseshoe”  in  November,  Don  A.  Stuart  gave  us  two  of  his  greatest 
stories,  E.E. Smith  started  a  monumental  new  series, some  new  names 
made  their  initial  appearances,  and  a  change  in  editorship  took  place 
which  had  momentous  significance  for  the  future  of  Astoimding  and  the 
entire  field  of  science  fiction. 

Two  authors  who  were  to  cast  long  shadows  over  the  next  two  decades 
or  so  made  their  bows  in  1937:  L.  Sprague  de  Camp  and  Eric  Frank 
Russell,  De  Camp’s  “Isolinguals”  told  of  a  strange  resurgence  of 
ancestral  memory  and  appeared  in  the  September  issue;  in  February, 
Eric  Frank  Russell,  an  Englishman,  led  off  the  issue  with  a  novelette 
in  the  Weinbaum  vein,  “The  Saga  of  Pelican  West.”  In  July,  Russell, 
in  collaboration  with  Leslie  T.  Johnson,  rated  the  best  cover  of  the 
year  with  a  very  fine  time  travel  story,  “Seeker  of  Tomorrow.”  Also 
appearing  for  the  first  time  in  Astoxmding  was  Willy  Ley,  the  self- 
exiled  German  rocket  scientist,  as  a  superlative  article  writer  with 
“The  Dawn  of  the  Conquest  of  Space,”  in  March,  and  as  an  infrequent 
but  fine  writer  of  fiction  (under  the  name  of  Robert  Willey)  with  the 
cover  story  for  February,  “At  the  Perihelion,”  Another  who  made  his 
debut  this  year  was  Norman  L.  Knight  with  a  two-part  novel  beginning 
in  July,  “Frontiers  of  the  Unknown.”  The  frontier  referred  to  was  the 
ocean  depths  with  its  limitless  marine  life— both  swimming  and  grow¬ 
ing  from  the  ocean  floor— being  exploited  by  the  “Submarine  Products 
Corporation”  for  the  use  of  man.  The  July  issue  nearly  gave  a  lot  of 
fans  heart  failure  when  it  appeared  with  untrimmed  edges,  but  happily 
trimmed  edges  returned  in  August  and  this  was  the  only  time  since 
the  adoption  of  trimmed  edges  in  February,  1936  to  this  date  that  the 
magazine  came  out  untrimmed.  (Actually,  the  printers  only  let  a  few 
thousand  copies  go  through  before  the  error  was  caught,  and  un¬ 
trimmed  copies  of  this  issue  are  quite  rare.) 

Many  fans  have  always  had  a  particular  fondness  for  the  two  Stuart 
novelettes  of  1937,  rating  them  as  two  of  their  all  time  favorite  science 
fiction  stories  and  two  of  Campbell’s  best.  The  first,  “Forgetfulness,” 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


43 


44 


ALVA  ROGERS 


published  in  June,  was  a  measured,  poetic  tale  of  haunting  beauty 
telling  of  the  first  starship  of  Pareeth  launched  into  interstellar  space 
to  find  a  habitable  planet  for  colonization.  The  story  of  the  Pareethian’s 
arrival  on  the  arcadian  planet,  Rhth,  and  the  saddening  discovery  that 
Rhth  was  peopled  by  a  childlike  race  of  gentle  savages  who  had  but  a 
dim  racial  memory  of  past  achievements  and  greatness,  and  the  ironic 
but  tender  climax  were  all  fairly  standard  science  fiction  ingredients 
magically  transformed  by  Campbell’s  genius  into  a  beautifully  memora¬ 
ble  story. 

The  second,  “Out  of  Night,”  in  the  October  issue  was  an  entirely 
different  type  of  story,  a  harking  back  to  the  basic  theme  of  the  “Ma¬ 
chine”  series  and  “Frictional  Losses.”  This  was  the  story  of  the  age¬ 
less  Sarn— and  above  all  the  Sam  Mother— who  came  to  Earth  from 
out  of  space,  and  after  conquering  it  had  ruled  for  four  thousand  years. 
It  told  of  the  growth  of  a  powerful  underground  movement  of  man  and 
his  fight  to  finally  resist  the  Sarn  and  their  attempted  imposition  of  a 
human  matriarchy  on  human  society.  This  fight  is  spearheaded  by 
“Aesir”  which  is — as  Grayth,  the  Human  Administrator  informed  the 
Sarn  Mother— “The  essence  of  the  will  and  thought,  the  power  and 
wisdom  of  fifteen  hundred  billions  of  men  who  have  lived  on  Earth.” 
This  Aesir  takes  the  form  of  man,  huge  and  amorphous,  black  as  space. 
In  actual  fact  it  is  the  product  of  an  electronic  gadget  developed  by 
electro-technicians  in  the  underground  who  hope  to  have  the  Aesir 
fully  perfected  in  time  for  the  impending  showdown  with  the  Sarn. 
Throughout  the  story  the  Sarn  Mother  remains  alien,  inscrutable— but 
at  the  same  time,  almost  human. 

Tremaine’s  emphasis  on  the  thought  variant,  or  gadget  story  eventually 
had  its  corollary  in  the  letter  section  of  the  magazine.  Traditionally, 
the  letter  sections  of  the  science  fict;'  m  magazines  were  and  are  used 
by  the  readers  to  air  their  opinions  of  the  stories,  artwork,  editor,  the 
magazine,  or  each  other  in  a  free  and  familiar  manner.  Serious  dis¬ 
cussion  of  science  formed  only  a  small  portion  of  the  total  wordage 
published  in  the  letter  columns.  And  “Brass  Tacks,”  Astounding’s 
letter  section,  was  no  exception.  In  1935  a  “war”  erupted  in  “Br^s 
Tacks”  between  two  well-known  fans,  Donald  Wollheim  and  Bob  Tucker 
(Wollheim  is  presently  the  editor  of  Ace  Books,  and  Tucker  is  well 
known  as  Wilson  Tucker,  science  fiction  and  mystery  author).  This 
was  the  so-called  Staples  War  waged  over  the  issue  of  the  use  of  wire 
staples  to  bind  science  fiction  magazines.  Taking  its  inspiration  from 
the  numerous  alphabet  agencies  of  the  New  Deal,  the  Staples  War 
spawned  a  proliferating  number  of  alphabet  societies  denoting  the 
individual’s  stand  on  this  great  issue— the  SPWSSTFM  (Society  for  the 
Prevention  of  Wire  Staples  in  Science  Fiction  Magazines),  the 
lAOPUMUMFSTFPUSA  (International  and  Allied  Organizations  for  the 
Purpose  of  Upholding  and  Maintaining  the  Use  of  Metallic  Fasteners 
in  Science  Fiction  Publications  in  the  United  States  of  America),  etc. 
The  whole  thing  got  out  of  hand  when  Tremaine  received  the  following, 
accepted  it  in  good  faith,  and  printed  it  as  the  lead  letter  in  the  January, 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  45 

1936  “Brass  Tacks”  (Printed  in  its  entirety,  including  editorial  com¬ 
ments.): 

“I  Will  Answer  Them  All” — Bob. 

Note:  I  want  every  serious  science  fiction  reader  to  receive 


this  message  just  as  I  received  it. 

same  impression  I  received  as 

I  read  these  two  letters. 

Please  read  them  careful!^ 

Dear  Editor: 

Inclosed  is  a  letter  I  was  instructed  to  mail  to  you  the  15th 
of  October,  but  in  the  sudden  turn  of  events  that  followed,  I 
overlooked  it  until  today. 

Perhaps  you  may  already  know  it  by  this  time,  but  our  friend 
Bob  has  passed  on.  Strangely  enough,  the  last  words  I  ever 
heard  him  say  concerned  your  magazine.  As  I  left  the  hospital, 
he  gave  me  the  inclosed  letter  to  mail,  and  requested  that  when 
I  returned  the  next  day  I  bring  a  new  copy  of  Astounding  Stories 
with  me.  I  did,  but  unfortunately,  I  was  too  late.  He  was 
operated  upon  that  morning  and  never  regained  consciousness. 

— Anne  Smidley. 


Dear  Editor: 

Tomorrow  will  be  the  third  Wednesday  and  Astounding  will 
help  fill  in  a  lot  of  empty  hours.  I  never  knew  before  how  much 
I  liked  Astounding  until  I  found  myself  in  a  spot  with  nothing  to 
do  but  count  the  days. 

What  I  want  to  talk  about  is  all  these  fly-by-night  societies 
popping  up  in  “Brass  Tacks.”  In  my  opinion,  the  majority  of 
those  are  for  one  reason  only — publicity.  Perhaps  they  got 
jealous  of  all  the  space  SPWSSTFM  was  hogging,  and  decided 
to  cash  in  on  some  of  the  free  advertising.  Dozens  have  already 
appeared,  tomorrow’s  issue  will  doubtless  announce  a  half 
dozen  new  ones.  And  I  bet  that  you  get  plenty  of  letters  announc¬ 
ing  others  that  you  don’t  print.  In  fact,  there  are  so  many 
clubs,  the  whole  thing  is  becoming  a  bore. 

I  have  thought  a  lot  about  it,  and  have  come  to  only  one  con¬ 
clusion:  all  of  these  societies  must  be  banded  into  one  or  two. 
The  combined  rosters  of  the — two,  shall  we  say— will  amount 
to  hundreds. 

The  two  clubs  with  the  largest  membership  should  be  the 
leaders, all  the  smaller  ones  merging  into  the  larger  ones.  For 
instance:  all  the  societies  for  staples  join  the  SPWSSTFM  (?): 
all  societies  against  them  join  whoever  has  the  largest  roster 
on  that  side — which  is  not  the  lAOPUSA  (?)  by  any  means. 

I  intend  to  work  toward  this  goal  when  I  get  back  on  my  feet 
again.  In  the  meantime,  I  wish  some  of  the  gang  would  start 


46 


ALVA  ROGERS 


the  ball  rolling.  You  have  favored  such  a  move,  editor.  I  would 
suggest  one  person  take  it  upon  his  shoulders  until  I  can  get 
back  into  the  fight. 

You  know,  the  SPWSSTFM  will  be  one  year  old  this  November. 

I  intend  to  put  out  a  birthday  issue  of  D’Journal  (Bob  Tucker’s 
fanzine),  but  the  pill  rollers  and  sawbones  have  taken  all  my 
cash — so  it  must  wait. 

Am  going  to  close  as  the  eats  are  coming— and  you  ought  to 
see  the  swell  nurse  that  feeds  me.  You  fellows  that  haven’t  got 
any  letter  from  me,  please  excuse  it.  I  will  answer  ’em  all  as 
soon  as  I  get  out  of  here. 

—Bob  Tucker. 

Note:  We  have  lost  a  staunch  supporter,  and  he  leaves  a 
challenge  to  you  to  carry  on.  Think  carefully  over  his  message 
concerning  science  fiction  organizations.  There  could  be  no 
finer  tribute  to  his  memory  than  the  accomplishment  of  the 
goal  toward  which  he  bent  his  thoughts.  Will  you  accept  his 
challenge  and  work  for  unity? 

Tremaine  had  no  sooner  published  this  than  he  found  out  it  was  all  a 
hoax,  and  that  he  had  been  made  to  look  foolish  in  his  own  magazine. 
He  was,  understandably,  quite  annoyed.  Alphabet  societies  disappeared 
immediately  from  the  pages  of  “Brass  Tacks.” 

Even  during  this  period  of  frivolity,  though,  there  were  serious  and 
thoughtful  letters  printed  in  “Brass  Tacks.”  In  January,  1937  Tremaine 
announced  that  with  the  next  issue,  “Brass  Tacks”  would  be  discontinued 
to  be  replaced  by  “Science  Discussions,”  which  would  contain  letters 
concerning  science  only,  preferably  inspired  by  the  science  content  of 
Astoimding’s  stories.  While  this  change  pleased  many  of  the  readers, 
many  others  vociferously  clamored  for  the  return  of  “Brass  Tacks” 
and  the  following  November  a  compromise  was  attempted  with  a  com¬ 
bined  letter  section:  “Science  Discussion,”  followed  by  a  shorter, 
separate  “Brass  Tacks.” 

The  rumors  that  Dr,  E,  E.  Smith  had  been  working  on  a  new  novel 
over  the  years  following  the  classic  “Skylark  of  Valeron”  were  con¬ 
firmed  in  the  July  issue  with  the  announcement  that  his  latest  and 
greatest  novel  would  begin  in  September,  This  was  exciting  news, 
indeed.  According  to  Tremaine  “Galactic  Patrol,”  the  new  novel,  was 
Smith’s  fifth  and  undoubtedly  his  greatest  effort.  It  was  a  slight  error 
to  call  this  Smith’s  fifth  novel;  an  error  that  was  quietly  corrected  in 
the  August  issue:  “Galactic  Patrol”  was  his  sixth  novel,  but  his  seventh 
story.  In  the  early  thirties,  from  1932  to  1935,  the  leading  fan  magazine 
of  the  day.  Fantasy  Magazine,  featured  a  round  robin  novel  that  ran  for 
eighteen  installments,  each  installment  written  by  a  diffe  rent  well-known 
writer:  A.  Merritt,  Eando  Binder,  Edmond  Hamilton,  P. Schuyler  Miller, 
John  W,  Campbell,  Jr.,  E.  E.  Smith,  etc.  The  name  of  the  novel  was 
Cosmos,  and  each  installment,  although  it  advanced  the  plot  of  Cosmos, 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  47 

was  usually  a  complete  story  in  itself.  Several  of  the  Cosmos  chapters 
were  later  reprinted  as  short  stories  in  Wonder  Stories— Edmond 
Hamilton’s  “Cosmos  End”  as  “The  Eternal  Cycle,”  (March,  1935),  “The 
Last  Poet  and  the  Robot,”  by  A.  Merritt  appeared  as  “Rhythm  of  the 
Spheres  "(October,  1936),  and  E.  E.  Smith’s  “What  A  Course !  ”  was  fea¬ 
tured  in  the  tenth  anniversary  issue  of  June,  1939,  as  “Robot  Nemesis." 
In  every  respect  “What  A  Course!”  was  a  professional  story,  even 
though  it  appeared  in  a  fanzine,  and  should  have  been  counted  by  Tre¬ 
maine  as  a  published  work  of  Doc  Smith’s. 

“Galactic  Patrol”  was,  Tremaine  said,  “...one  hundred  thousand 
words  of  a  stupendous  effort — the  greatest  science  fiction  serial  Dr. 
E.  E.  ‘Skylark’  Smith  has  ever  written.” 

Wesso’s  red,  yellow,  and  green  cover  for  September  heralded  the 
beginning  of  this  great  novel  which  was  to  run  for  six  installments . 
“Galactic  Patrol”  introduced  to  science  fiction  the  incomparable  Gray 
Lensman,  Kimball  Kinnison,  one  of  the  greatest  science  fictional 
characters  of  all  time.  From  the  first  scene  in  Wentworth  Hall,  at 
the  Patrol  Academy,  where  Kinnison  is  graduated  first  in  his  class, 
gets  his  Lens  and  his  first  assignment,  to  the  final  climactic  face  to 
face  battle  with  Helmuth,  “He  who  speaks  for  Boskone,”  the  pace  never 
slackens  and  Smith  fills  his  novel  with  a  galaxy  of  memorable  char¬ 
acters  and  incidents. 

Crime  throiighout  the  galaxy  is  showing  an  alarming  increase  and  is 
apparently  well  organized  and  imder  the  direction  of  someone,  or  some 
group  known  only  to  the  Patrol  as  Boskone.  The  Galactic  Patrol  is 
Civilization’s  universal  police  force,  its  personnel  made  up  of  the 
highest  types  of  the  galaxy’s  many  races .  The  greatest  weapon  pos¬ 
sessed  by  the  Patrol  in  combating  the  forces  of  Boskone  is  the  Lens 
given  to  each  being  when  he  is  graduated  from  his  academy.  The  Lens 
is  a  lenticular  jewel  worn  on  the  wrist  havii^  a  pseudo-ltfe  of  its  own 
which  is  attuned  to  its  wearer  and  is  instant  death  to  anyone  else  at¬ 
tempting  to  use  it.  It  acts  not  only  as  a  non-counterfeitable  identifying 
symbol,  but  serves  also  as  a  transmitter  and  amplifier  of  thought,  en¬ 
abling  Lensmen  to  communicate  instantly  with  each  other  across  the 
entire  galaxy  if  need  be.  The  Lens  has  been  given  to  the  Patrol  by  the 
insular  mentalities  of  Arisia,  the  mystery-shrouded  planet,  who  have, 
for  reasons  of  their  own,  taken  sides  with  Civilization  against  Boskone . 

Kimball  Kinnison’s  mission  is  to  get  a  line  on  Boskone,  track  him 
down  and  destroy  him.  Kinnison  ranges  the  galaxy  in  pursuit  of  Boskone 
aided  by  Worsel  of  Velantia,  the  first  of  that  fearsome  winged  dragon 
race  to  wear  the  Lens  of  the  Patrol,  and  Tregonsee,  the  chunky  Rlgelian 
with  the  sense  of  perception  rather  than  sight.  In  a  battle  with  the 
Wheelmen  of  Aldebaran,  Kinnison  Is  severely  wounded  and  on  his 
return  to  Prime  Base,  more  dead  than  alive,  he  is  nursed  back  to 
health  by  ClarrissaMacDo\:gall,the  red-headed  fireball  of  a  nurse  who 
at  first  hates,  and  then  learns  to  love,  the  Lensman.  Shortly  before 
his  bout  with  the  Wheelmen,  Kinnison  is  given  Unattached  Status  which 
makes  him  a  free  agent  anywhere  in  the  galaxy  and  answerable  to  no 


48 


ALVA  ROGERS 


authority  but  his  own  conscience  and,  as  an  Unattached  Lensman,  he  is 
entitled  to  wear  the  gray  leather  imiform  of  that  rank,  becoming  a 
•Gray  Lensman."  Kinnison  eventually  returns  to  Arisia  for  advanced 
training  in  the  use  of  the  Lens  and  the  mind  (the  first  Lensman  to  dare 
do  so),  and  there  learns  the  full  potential  of  the  power  of  his  mind. 
With  ^is  advanced  training  he  finally  gets  a  direct  line  on  Helmuth 
•who  speaks  for  Boskone,"  and  convinced  that  Helmuth  ^  Boskone, 
insinuates  himself  into  Helmuth’s  Grand  Base  and  kills  him. 

This  novel  was  rich  red  meat  for  Doc  Smith’s  fans,  lean  and  mus¬ 
cular  compared  to  the  fairy  tales  which  in  essence  were  the  “Skylark” 
stories.  This  was  cops  and  robbers  on  a  grand,  heroic  scale  laid  in  a 
universe  much  more  logical  and  believable  than  that  of  the  “Skylarks,” 
and  with  a  much  more  reasonable  science  base. 

With  “Galactic  Patrol,”  the  year  ended  gloriously.  On  the  balance  it 
was  one  of  improvement  over  the  previous  year  with  enough  great 
stories  to  satisfy  almost  anyone.  The  presence  of  E.  E.  Smith  and 
“Galactic  Patrol”  caused  many  fans  to  compare  the  year  favorably 
with  the  halcyon  period  of  1934  and  1935,  but  none  of  us  realized  that 
the  next  five  years  would  eclipse  anything  that  had  gone  before. 

The  September,  1937  Issue  of  Astounding  was  to  be  Tremaine’s  last 
as  editor.  Tremaine  had  se rved~Astounding  and  science  fiction  nobly 
in  the  four  years  of  his  editorship,  giving  the  one  new  life  and  guiding 
it  to  leadership  of  the  field,  giving  to  the  other  new  meaning  and  vitality. 
Tremaine  had  become  editorial  director  of  a  number  of  Street  &  Smith 
magazines,  and  in  September,  1937  he  hired  a  new  editor  to  replace 
himself  at  Astovmdtng.  The  new  editor,  although  young  (he  was  twenty- 
seven),  was  considered  one  of  the  greatest  science  fiction  writers  of 
the  day,  but  as  an  editor  he  was  an  unknown  quantity  and  there  were 
some  who  questioned  the  wisdom  of  the  appointment. 

Thus,  quietly  began  the  reign  of  John  W.  Campbell,  Jr.,  one  of  the 
greatest  (if  not  the  greatest)  and,  at  times,  most  controversial  editors 
in  the  history  of  science  fiction. 


CHAPTER  IV 


THE  INTERREGNUM;  1937-1939 


The  appointment  of  John  W.  Campbell,  Jr.  as  editor  of 
Astounding  Stories  brought  to  an  end  the  second,  or 
“Tremaine”  era  of  the  magazine  and  marked  the  beginning 
of  the  third  and  greatest  era— the  legendary  “Gtolden  ^e” 
of  Astounding.  But  before  the  Golden  Age  began  there  was 
an  Interregnum  during  wkich  Campbell  served  his  editorial  apprentice¬ 
ship  and  gradually  replaced  the  Tremaine  influence  on  the  magazine 
with  his  own.  At  first  there  was  nothing  to  intimate  to  the  average 
reader  that  a  change  in  editors  had  taken  place:  the  magazine  in  those 
days  did  not  list  the  name  of  the  editor  on  the  contents  page  as  it  was 
to  do  later.  The  “flavor”  of  the  magazine  in  the  last  three  issues  of 
1937  was  still  that  of  Tremaine,  and  remained  so,  substantially,  until 
Tremaine  left  Street  &  Smith  in  May  of  1938  and  his  backlog  of  stories 
was  used  up. 

Campbell  wasted  little  time  in  impressing  his  own  ideas  on  the 
magazine  despite  the  overriding  influence  of  Tremaine.  In  January, 
1938  there  appeared  for  the  first  time  the  colunm  “In  Times  to  Come” 
in  which  the  coming  issue  is  discussed  and  previewed,  a  colunm  which 
is  still  an  integral  feature  in  today’s  Analog.  In  this  column  and  on  the 
editor’s  page,  Campbell  announced  the  first  of  a  series  of  Mutant  issues 
with  the  February  issue.  He  didn’t  e:q)lain  what  the  Mutant  feature  in 
February  would  be,  but  did  explain  the  idea  of  Mutant  issues  in  this  way: 

“In  each  of  the  Mutant  issues  that  are  to  come  during  1938,  the 
change  may  seem  small  in  itself,  but  it  will  be  fundamental.  It  will 
help  to  determine  the  direction  that  the  evolution  of  Astounding  Stories 
and  science  fiction  must  take.  Like  nature’s  mutations,  Mut^t  issues 
wiU  not  be  frequent;  only  when  a  genuine,  fundamentally  different  and 
original  thing  is  to  be  tried,  will  I  announce  a  true  Mutant  issue.” 

The  first  Astoundii^  mutation  in  February,  1938  was  the  cover.  It 
was  an  astronomically  accurate  painting  by  Brown  of  the  Sun  as  seen 


49 


50 


ALVA  ROGERS 


from  the  surface  of  Mercury.  This  was  the  first  in  a  series  of  astro¬ 
nomical  covers,  and  was  presented  with  no  printed  matter  on  the 
picture  itself. 

In  March,  Campbell  made  the  first  major  non-literary  change  in  the 
magazine  since  the  adoption  of  trimmed  edges  in  1936— he  changed  the 
name.  The  change  was  small  but  significant.  Astounding  was  still 
Astounding,  but  now  instead  of  being  Astounding  Stories  it  was  Astound¬ 
ing  Scien^-Flctlon,  complete  with  the  hyphen.  Camp6ell  later  admitted 
that  he  was  never  over-fond  of  the  name  Astoxmding,  feeling  that  it 
lacked  dignity,  was  too  pulpishly  sensational,  and  failed  to  accurately 
identify  the  contents  between  the  covers.  In  changing  the  name  at  this 
time  it  was  his  intention  to  gradually  de-emphasize  the  Astounding 
portion  of  the  name  and  at  the  right  time  drop  it  completely  leaving 
the  magazine  simply  Science  Fiction.  Unfortunately  for  his  plans, 
Charles  Homlg,  the  former  editor  of  Wonder  Stories,  brought  out  a 
new  magazine  in  March,  1939  called. ..you  guessed  it.  Science  Fiction. 
One  of  the  increments  of  this  name  change  was  the  ready  adoption  of 
ASF  by  most  fans— and  the  editor— as  the  shorthand  name  for  the 
magazine;  an  abbreviation  still  in  frequent  use  today. 

The  first  Mutant  story  to  appear  in  Campbell’s  Astounding  was  an¬ 
nounced  as  “The  Legion  of  Probability,”  by  Jack  Williamson,  a  three- 
part  serial  to  begin  in  May.  The  novel  was  published,  however,  as 
“The  Legion  of  Time,”  with  a  cover  and  illustrations  by  Charles 
Schneeman.  This  was  Schneeman’s  first  cover  and  a  disappointing  one, 
but  it  was  made  up  for  by  his  excellent  interior  illustrations.  “The 
Legion  of  Time”  dealt  with  parallel  time  streams  of  the  future,  and 
particularly  of  two  antithetical  probable  future  worlds.  Which  of  these 
futures  will  solidify  into  actuality  and  which  will  cease  to  exist  or  to 
ever  have  been  depends  upon  the  casual  act  of  a  twelve-year-old  boy 
in  the  Ozarks  in  the  summer  of  1921.  There  are  two  beautiful  and 
highly  desirable  women  from  these  two  pnjbable  futures,  one  good  and 
one  evil,  each  mirroring  their  separate  cultures,  and  contesting  each 
other  for  the  love  and  loyalty  of  the  hero,  Dennis  Lanning,  who  holds 
the  key  to  their  future  in  his  hand.  There  is  lusty,  brawling  adventure 
up  and  down  time  and  across  parallel  futures,  and  an  ingenious  reso¬ 
lution  of  the  conflict.  This  was  Jack  Williamson  at  his  best. 

In  April,  Thomas  Calvert  McClary  began  a  three  part  serial,  “Three 
Thousand  Years,”  which  was  an  enjoyable  tale  but  an  obvious  variation 
of  the  theme  of  his  classic  “Rebirth”  of  1934.  Of  greater  moment, 
however,  was  the  appearance  this  month  of  “The  Faithful,”  the  first 
story  of  one  of  the  more  consistently  good  writers  of  the  Golden  Age, 
Lester  del  Rey  (Ramon  F.  Alvarez  del  Rey).  This  was  a  story  of  man’s 
self-annihilation  through  senseless  war,  of  the  last  man  left  on  Earth, 
and  of  the  faithful  continuation  of  man’s  genuine  achievements  and 
ideals  by  the  dogs  and  anthropoid  apes  who  had  been  taught  to  speak 
and  to  think  deductively  by  controlled  genetics.  Although  the  story 
hovered  on  the  thin  edge  of  maudlin  sentimentality  it  was  saved  from 
this  dire  fate  by  del  Rey’s  deft  skill  at  blending  sentiment  with  reality. 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


51 


March,  1938;  the  first  Astounding  Science-Fiction  logo. 
Painting  by  Wesso. 


52 


ALVA  ROGERS 


There  were  other  new  writers  making  their  debuts  this  year,  most 
of  them  making  not  much  of  an  impression,  but  a  few  going  on  to  much 
greater  things  in  the  years  to  follow;  most  notably,  L.  Ron  Hubbard, 
Malcolm  Jameson,  and  H.  L.  Gold. 

L.  Ron  Hubbard,  a  name  not  unknown  to  readers  of  ^gosy,  and  other 
general  fiction  pulps,  entered  the  science  fiction  field  via  a  slight,  but 
entertaining  short  story  in  July,  “The  Dangerous  Dimension.”  This 
was  followed  in  September  by  the  beginning  of  a  three-part  novel,  “The 
Tramp.”  Both  these  stories  dealt  with  exceptional  powers  of  the  mind 
—the  first  with  teleportation,  the  second  with  the  power  to  heal  or  kill 
by  projected  thought — and  could,  along  with  “Galactic  Patrol,”  quite 
possibly  be  considered  the  forerunners  of  the  psi  stories  that  enjoyed 
such  a  vogue  In  Astounding  during  the  fifties. 

Malcolm  Jameson^s  hrst  science  fiction  story  was  a  short  story 
dealing  with  the  application  of  meteorology  to  warfare,  and  to  the 
elimination  of  that  intense  nationalism  which,  accordii^  to  Jameson, 
inevitably  leads  to  war.  “Eviction  by  Isotherm”  appeared  in  August 
and  was  followed  by  “Seaward,”  another  short  story  in  November, 
which  was  also  a  war  story,  this  time  concerning  chemical  warfare , 
organic  chemistry  versus  Inorganic  chemistry. 

In  December,  Campbell  featured  a  story  by  “a  name  new  to  science 
fiction,”  H.  L.  Gold.  Technically  this  was  true.  Although  Gold  had  had 
several  stories  published  in  Astounding  in  1934-35,  they  had  been 
imder  the  byline  of  Clyde  Crane  Campbell— so  this  the  first  ap¬ 
pearance  of  the  name  H.  L.  Gold.  The  story  was  “A  Matter  of  Form” 
and  told  of  a  man  who  suddenly  found  his  mind  switched  with  that  of  a 
collie,  and  of  his  desperate  efforts  to  communicate  his  plight  to  non¬ 
comprehending  hiunans.  An  excellent  story  excellently  Illustrated  by 
Charles  Schneeman. 

Two  of  Robert  Moore  Williams’  stories  this  year  were  considerably 
above  the  general  level  of  quality  of  his  output  and  were  two  of  the 
better  short  stories  of  the  year.  The  first,  “The  Flight  of  the  Dawn 
Star,”  was  published  in  March  and  told  of  two  men  in  a  space  ship  who 
are  caught  in  a  space-time  warp  when  they  venture  too  close  to  the 
Sun.  When  they  come  out  of  the  warp  they  find  themselves  lost  in  a 
completely  unfamiliar  sector  of  the  galaxy  and  confronted  with  the 
problem  of  finding  their  way  back  to  the  Solar  system  without  familiar 
referents  to  guide  them.  The  problem  and  its  solution  is  fairly  obvious 
early  in  the  story,  but  it’s  not  so  much  the  story  as  the  telling  of  it 
which  made  this  such  a  memorable  little  tale.  The  second  story, 
“Robot’s  Return,”  appeared  in  September  and  tells  of  the  endless  search 
throi^hout  space  for  the  legendary  home  of  their  creators  by  a  ship 
“manned*  by  robots,  their  brief  landing  on  a  devastated  and  lifeless 
planet,  and  the  discovery  there  that  their  creator  had  been  not  a  ma¬ 
chine  as  they  had  believed,  but  “Man  the  weakling,  eater  of  grass  and 
flesh” — but,  nevertheless,  godlike  in  his  vision  and  power.  Both  these 
stories  were  well  illustrated  by  Schneeman,  with  his  illustration  for 
“Flight  of  the  Dawn  Star”  being  one  of  his  best  drawings  of  the  year. 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


53 


July,  1938;  “The  Legion  of  Time,”  by  Jack  Williamson. 
Illustration  by  Charles  Schneeman. 


L.  Sprague  de  Camp  was  back  this  year  with  three  short  stories  and 
an  article  to  follow  up  his  successful  debut  with  “The  Isolinguals”  in 
1937.  The  first  was  “Hyperpilosity,”  in  April,  a  satirical  tale  wherein 
man  suddenly  starts  growing  his  own  luxurious  coat  of  hair,  hi  October 
he  introduced  his  educated  black  bear,  Johnny  Black,  whose  favorite 
reading  matter  was  The  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  in  “The  Command.” 
And  in  December  his  short  story,  “The  Merman”  was  featured  on  the 
cover  with  a  fine  painting  by  Charles  Schneeman,  that  artist’s  second 
for  Astounding. 

The  first  of  de  Camp’s  many  fine  articles  appeared  in  July. 
“Language  for  Time  Travelers”  was  a  fascinating  and  scholarly  ex¬ 
amination  of  the  changes  in  language  one  might  be  expected  to  find  in 
the  future  and  was  one  of  the  most  highly  acclaimed  features  published 
during  the  year. 


54 


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Another  article  that  merits  notice  was  “Catastrophe,”  by  E.  E. 
Smith  —  If  for  no  other  reason  than  that  it  is  the  only  article  ever 
written  by  him  for  professional  magazines.  The  article  expounded  the 
galactic  collision  theory  of  the  formation  of  planetary  systems  and  was 
in  the  order  of  a  justification  for  his  use  of  so  many  planetary  systems 
in  his  novels  which  had  come  in  for  some  criticism  by  some  of  his 
readers. 

Arthur  J.  Burks  introduced  a  new  character,  Josh  McNab,  and 
started  a  new  series  with  “Hell  Ship”  in  August,  which  merited  what  is 
possibly  one  of  Wesso’s  finest  covers  for  Astounding.  “Hell  Ship,” 
and  the  subsequent  stories  in  the  series,  concerned  the  adventures  of 
a  space -going  counterpart  of  every  Scottish  ei^neer  that  in  popular 
Saturday  Evening  Post  type  fiction  sailed  the  earthly  oceans  in  battered 
tramp  steamers. 

Clifford  D.  Slmak— today  a  name  to  be  conjured  with— was  virtually 
unknown  to  the  bulx  of  Astounding’s  readers  in  1938.  In  1931  and  1932, 
Simak  wrote  five  short  stories,  three  for  Wonder  Stories,  one  for 
Wonder  Stories  Quarterly,  and  one  for  Astoumllng  Stories .  The  story 
for  Astounding  was  “Hellhounds  of  the  Cosmos”  in  the  Jime,  1932  issue. 
This  was  a  typical  Astounding  story  of  the  Clayton  era,  of  the  Earth 
menaced  by  invaders  from  the  fourth  dimension,  b\it  competently 
written  and  with  some  believable  newspaper  office  scenes — not  unsur¬ 
prising  since  Simak  is  a  newspaperman.  He  returned  to  the  science 
fiction  field  because,  he  says,  he  had  confidence  in  John  W.  Campbell, 
Jr.  as  an  editor  and  felt  he  was  one  man  he  could  write  for. 

Although  the  average  Astoimdlng  reader  was  probably  unfamiliar 
with  Simak,  he  was  known  (at  least  by  reputation)  to  the  ardent  fan  as 
the  author  of  the  almost  legendary  story,  ‘The  Creator,”  which  was 
published  in  the  March-April,  1935  issue  of  William  Crawford’s  semi- 
professional  “literary”  science  fiction  magazine.  Marvel  Tales.  This 
story,  which  was  reputed  to  be  a  taboo  breaker  of  the  day  (it  dared  to 
utilize,  supposedly,  God  as  a  science-fictional  plot  gimmick),  remained 
a  part  of  the  legend  of  the  past  to  most  fans  imtil  it  was  reprinted  (in 
July,  1961)  in  Fantastic  magazine. 

Simak’s  first  story  for  Campbell’s  Astounding,  in  July,  was  a  far 
cry  from  “Hellhounds  of  the  Cosmos,”  or  “The  Creator.”  “Rule  18” 
was  a  football  story.  It  was  about  the  annual  ‘big  game”  between  Mars 
and  Earth  which  for  sixty-seven  consecutive  years  had  been  won  by 
Mars,  to  the  great  humiliation  of  Earth.  The  coach  of  the  Earth  team 
uses  a  time  machine  to  go  back  in  the  past  to  recruit  football  greats  of 
ages  past,  and  with  this  team  clobbers  the  Martians  on  their  home 
grounds  the  following  year.  Although  not  a  great  story,  it  was  a  good 
one,  and  had  an  element  of  naturalness  about  it  that  was  to  become 
almost  a  trademark  of  Simak.  The  story  was  also  enlivened  by  some 
very  good  newspaper  color  with  a  hot-shot  reporter  as  its  protagonist. 

Simak  had  two  more  stories  in  1938,  “Hunger  Death,”  in  October, 
and  “Reunion  on  Ganymede”  in  November,  the  latter  the  subject  of  a 
strikingly  colorful  cover  by  Brown.  The  first  was  about  a  reunion  of 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


55 


December,  1938;  first 


style  logo.  Painting  by  Schneeinan. 


56 


ALVA  ROGERS 


veterans  of  an  Earth-Mars  war,  the  second  about  Iowa  farmers  on 
Venus;  both  were  characterized  by  that  element  of  simplicity  and 
naturalness  mentioned  earlier,  the  extraction  of  drama  from  simple- 
even  mundane— themes  which  distinguished  his  modem  stories  from 
his  earlier  ones. 

A  short  story  in  June,  “Seeds  of  the  Dusk,”  by  Raymond  Z.  Gallun, 
has  long  been  a  great  favorite  of  mine.  (In  1945,  when  Raymond  J. 
Healy  and  J.  Francis  McComas  were  working  on  their  monumental 
science  fiction  anthology.  Adventures  in  Time  and  Space,  published  by 
Random  House  in  1946,  I  was  consulted  by  them  for  su^estions  of 
stories  for  possible  inclusion.  One  of  the  stories  I  suggested  was 
“Seeds  of  the  Dusk,”  and  I  like  to  think  that  its  eventual  presence  in 
that  anthology  was  due  to  my  enthusiasm  for  the  story — a  story  which 
neither  eaitor  had  read  prior  to  my  suggesting  it.)  A  short  story,  it 
tells  of  the  end  of  the  Children  of  Men,  the  Itorloo,  in  the  inconceivably 
distant  future  as  they  are  invaded  and  ultimately  destroyed  by  sentient 
spores  that  have  floated  across  space  from  Mars,  a  ^  Arrhenius. 
This  story  epitomizes  the  best  of  the  remote  future,  dead-or-dying- 
Earth  theme  that  was  so  popular  in  the  thirties.  Its  impact  is  height¬ 
ened  by  the  mood  established  by  Gallon’s  rich  imagery,  his  human 
compassion  and  genuine  feeling  for  the  characters  involved  in  this 
final  tragedy. 

One  of  the  highlights  of  the  year — surely,  of  the  first  half — was  Don 
A.  Stuart’s  excellent  novelette  in  January,  “Dead  Knowledge.”  This 
story  of  a  highly  civilized  planet  whose  people  to  the  last  man,  woman, 
and  child  had  committed  suicide,  and  the  search  by  three  men  from 
Earth  for  the  reason,  again  confirmed  Stuart’s  reputation  as  one  of  the 
greatest  science  fiction  writers  of  this,  or  any  other,  time. 

Without  question,  the  outstanding  story  of  the  year  was  a  long  novel¬ 
ette  featured  in  August,  “Who  Goes  There?”  by  Don  A.  Stuart.  This 
brilliantly  conceived  and  written  tale  of  Antarctic  horror  is  probably 
the  greatest  thing  Campbell  ever  wrote.  It  was  later  “adapted”  for 
filming  as  The  Thing.  An  Antarctic  expedition,  winter-locked  on  the 
continent,  discovers  the  body  of  a  monstrous  alien  from  beyond  the 
stars  which  had  lain  quick -frozen  in  the  Antarctic  ice  for  twenty  mil¬ 
lion  years  after  the  crash  of  its  ship.  The  scientists  of  the  expedition 
take  it  to  their  winter  camp  and  begin  thawing  it  in  order  to  more 
closely  examine  it.  The  being  revives  under  the  thawmg,  escapes,  and 
then  proceeds  to  fight  for  survival.  The  monster’s  means  of  survival 
is  to  completely  adapt  itself  to  any  living  creature,  becoming  not  just 
a  simulacrum  of  the  creature  taken  over,  but  being  that  creature  down 
to  its  last  cell  and  its  most  subtle  thought.  Only  an  infinitesimal 
portion  of  the  monster  is  used  to  take  over  an  animal  or  man  if  need 
be,  so  it  is  theoretically  possible  for  this  one  alien  entity  to  become 
every  living  creature  on  Earth  in  time. 

The  scientists  of  the  expedition  are  aware  of  this  threat,  of  course, 
and  take  measures  to  seal  themselves  off  from  the  outside  world  until 
the  monster  can  be  destroyed.  But  of  most  immediate  and  horrifying 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


57 


moment  is  the  need  for  determining  who,  or  how  many  of  the  surty-five 
or  so  men  at  the  base  have  already  been  taken  over  by  the  monster 
and  are  no  longer  the  friends  they  knew  but  something  alien  and  in¬ 
comprehensible. 

Campbell  builds  his  tale  of  suspense  and  horror  gradually  with  short, 
matter-of-fact  sentences, establishment  of  character  through  dialogue, 
and  descriptions  of  the  monotonous  routine  and  close  quarters  of  an 
Antarctic  camp.  Against  this  background  he  introduces  his  monster 
and  the  problem  it  poses,  and  the  suspense  mounts  without  letup  to  the 
climax. 

By  the  end  of  1938  it  became  more  than  obvious  that  Campbell  was 
wasting  little  time  in  implementing  his  ideas  concerning  the  direction 
he  felt  science  fiction  should  take,  the  direction  he  had  intuitively 
anticipated  with  his  “Twilight”  of  four  years  earlier,  the  direction  he 
had  continued  pointing  in  with  the  rest  of  his  Don  A.  Stuart  stories. 
Although  the  Campbell  influence  became  increasingly  more  pronounced 
as  the  year  progressed,  one  year  obviously  wasn’t  long  enough  to  bring 
about  a  complete  revolution  in  science  fiction.  There  were  still 
holdovers  from  the  past.  That  was  to  be  expected.  Campbell’s  Mutant 
policy  was  only  sli^tly  different  from  Tremaine’s  thought  variant, 
and  after  his  initial  enthusiasm,  Campbell  seemed  to  have  lost  interest 
in  it,  feeling,  perhaps,  that  it  too  gave  too  much  emphasis  to  gadgetry 
and  plot  gimmicks  and  not  enough  to  story.  The  Mutant  idea,  in  and  of 
itself,  was  not  the  vehicle  to  carry  science  fiction  into  new  literary 
territories.  It  did  give  us  one  classic  of  the  era,  “The  Legion  of  Time,” 
but  this  was  a  story  Williamson  wrote  without  inspiration  by  the  Mutant 
policy. 

The  immediate  changes  in  approach  and  style  were  discernible  not 
so  much  in  the  works  of  the  old  standbys,  Burks,  Schachner,  Cummings, 
etc .,  as  it  was  in  the  new  writers  who  came  in  under  the  direct  in¬ 
fluence  of  Campbell:  de  Camp,  Simak,  Hubbard,  Jameson,  Ley,  Russell, 
Norman  L.  Knight,  del  Rey,  Gold.  These  men — and  a  handful  of  the 
more  flexible  old  timers,  Williamson,  Gallun,  Rocklynne,  and,  of 
course,  Don  A.  Stuart — seem  to  have  immediately  caught  the  spark 
from  Campbell  and  began  writing  what  can  only  be  called  “modem” 
science  fiction. 

Paralleling  the  editorial  changes— and  more  immediately  noticeable 
—were  the  physical  changes  that  began  taking  place  within  months  of 
the  Campbell  take-over.  The  first  was  the  astronomical  cover  on  the 
February  issue.  This  was  the  first  such  on  the  covers  of  Astounding. 
This  was  followed  in  June  with  a  painting  by  Wesso  of  Mars  as  seen 
from  Deimos,  and  in  November  by  Brown  again  with  Jupiter  seen  from 
Ganymede.  The  Jupiter  painting  had  a  glaring  error  incorporated  in 
it  which  was  admitted  to  by  Campbell,  but  was  printed  as  was  because 
Campbell  was  interested  in  seeing  how  many  readers  could  detect  it. 
The  error  was  an  optical  one  and  in  no  way  detracted  from  the  effect¬ 
iveness  of  the  cover.  The  first  major  editorial  change  was  in  the 


58 


ALVA  ROGERS 


adoptionof  the  column  “In  Times  To  Come”  mentioned  earlier.  Following 
this  was  the  first  really  significant  change,  the  change  of  name.  As 
far  as  the  covers  were  concerned  there  was  no  one  artist  doing  the 
majority  of  covers  during  the  year,  and  this  departure  from  the  earlier 
practice  of  having  one  cover  artist  was  a  noticeable  change  from  the 
past.  For  the  record,  this  is  how  the  covers  were  assigned:  Wesso 
did  the  January,  March,  June,  and  August  covers,  with  June  and  August 
being  two  of  the  best  of  the  year,  Schneeman  handled  the  May  and 
December  covers,  and  Thompson,  a  very  poor  September  cover.  The 
rest  were  by  Brown,  who  was  listed  on  the  contents  pages  of  the  July, 
October,  and  November  issues  as  H.  “W.”  Brown,  rather  than  H.  V. 
Brown. 

Campbell  ended  the  year  in  an  extremely  dramatic  fashion  with  the 
most  radical  change  to  date... a  complete  face-lifting  of  the  magazine. 
Gone  forever  were  the  massive  block  letters  that  spread  across  the 
top  of  the  magazine  in  diminishing  size  spelling  out  Astounding  that 
had  identified  the  magazine  since  the  first  issue.  In  its  place  was  a 
more  modern,  streamlined  logo  with  all  the  letters  of  the  name 
Astounding  of  uniform  height  across  the  top  of  the  magazine,  with 
Science-Fiction,  AStreet  &  Smith  Publication,  the  date,  and  the  price 
closely  grouped  beneath.  The  price  remained  at  twenty  cents  and  the 
page  count  at  162,  coimting  the  front  cover  as  page  one.  This  change 
had  been  forecast  in  the  November  issue  which  appeared  with  a  com¬ 
pletely  revamped  contents  page,  neater,  cleaner  and  less  cluttered, 
and  with  what  was  to  be  the  new  cover  lettering  at  the  top  of  the  page. 

Actually,  Campbell  had  little  if  anything  to  do  with  the  changes  in  the 
makeup  of  the  cover,  contents  page,  and  interior.  Major  changes  of 
this  sort,  of  course,  originate  in  the  art  department.  As  with  all 
major  chains  of  pulp  magazines.  Street  &  Smith  had  a  more  or  less 
uniform  makeup  on  all  their  magazines  with  minor  variations.  Thus, 
during  any  given  period,  the  twenties,  the  thirties,  the  forties,  all 
Street  &  Smith  magazines,  whether  western,  detective,  general  fiction, 
character,  or  science  fiction,  bore  a  familial  resemblance  and  were 
easily  identified  as  Street  &  Smith  magazines. 

The  cover  change  was  the  last  of  the  Mutants.  With  the  December 
issue,  Campbell  annoimced  a  new  policy;  the  Nova  story.  The  first 
Nova  was  H.  L.  Gold’s  “A  Matter  of  Form.”  The  Nova  designation 
would  be  used  sparingly,  said  Campbell  in  his  December  editorial,  and 
only  to  identify  a  story  that  “deserves  some  special  mark,  some  brief 
term  of  description  that  can  tell  you  beforehand  that  a  story  unusual  in 
manner  of  presentation  rather  than  in  basic  theme  is  coming.” 

And  thus  the  “old”  Astoimding  was  laid  to  rest  with  the  first  glim¬ 
merings  of  the  Golden  Age  appearing  over  the  horizon  of  the  new  year. 


CHAPTER  V 


THE  DAWN  OF  THE  GOLDEN  AGE:  1939-1940 


We  now  come  to  the  beginning  of  what  is  generally  known 
as  the  Golden  Age  of  science  fiction  as  a  genre,  but  more 
specifically  of  Astoimding  as  a  magazine.  These  nejrt  few 
years  are  the  high-water  mark  of  Astounding  and  of  maga¬ 
zine  science  fiction.  It  is  true  that  today  we  have  men  and 
women  of  considerable  talent  writing  for  the  field,  people  who  write 
sophisticated,  mature— “slick*  if  you  will— science  fiction.  The  general 
level  of  ability  is  undoubtedly  higher  in  most  instances  today  than  yester¬ 
day.  However,  the  magic,  that  hard  to  define  Sense  of  Wonder,  the  ex¬ 
citement  that  surrounded  Astounding  in  the  years  of  the  Golden  Age 
(and,  in  fact,  the  entire  field)  seems  to  be  sadly  lacking  these  days, 
and  has  for  some  years  past.  No  longer  is  there  that  unbearable  and 
interminable  wait  between  issues;  the  thrill  of  a  beautiful  Rogers  cover 
standing  out  like  a  diamond  surrounded  by  paste  as  you  approach  the 
newsstand ;  the  rush  home  and  the  hungry  devouring  of  the  entire  con¬ 
tents  at  one  sitting;  the  promise  to  yourseK  not  to  start  the  latest 
Heinlein  or  van  Vo^  or  Smith  serial  until  all  the  parts  are  at  hand, 
and  then  the  immediate  breaking  of  that  promise,  and  once  again  the 
interminable  wait . . . 

The  January,  1939  issue  is  notable  for  one  fact,  if  for  no  other;  it 
contained  the  last,  and  without  doubt  the  worst  Warner  van  Lome  story 
to  be  published  in  Astounding.  It  was  called  “The  Blue-Men  of  Yrano,* 
and  Campbell  apologized  for  months  afterward  for  publishing  it. 
Warner  van  Lome  is  somewhat  of  a  mystery.  Except  for  one  story, 
“The  Upper  Level  Road*  in  the  August,  1935  Astoundii^,  admittedly 
written  by  F.  Orlin  Tremaine,  the  tme  authorship  of  the  remainder  of 
the  van  Lome  stories  is  in  doubt.  Some  time  ago  the  brother  of  F. 
Orlin  Tremaine  claimed  to  have  been  Warner  van  Lome,  but  this 
claim  has  never  been  corroborated  and  there  seem  to  be  valid  reasons 


59 


ALVA  ROGERS 


for  doubting  it.  Recently  the  question  of  van  Lome’s  identity  has  been 
the  subject  of  debate  amongst  knowledgeable  fans  with  nothing  resolved. 
Robert  A.  W.  Lowndes,  old-time  fan  and  respected  editor,  suggested 
the  possibility  that  ^  the  van  Lome  stories  were  written  by  F.  Orlin 
Tremaine.  In  1942,  said  Lowndes,  when  he  was  editor  of  the  magazine 
Future  Combined  with  Science  Fiction  he  received  from  an  agent  a 
manuscript  signed  by  F.  Orlin  Tremaine  which  was  written  in  the 
exact  style  of  van  Lome,  right  down  to  his  method  of  paragraphing. 
Lowndes  didn’t  offer  this  as  proof  that  Tremaine  was  van  Lome,  but 
as  an  interesting  point  for  speculation.  To  this  day  van  Lome  remains 
an  intriguing  mystery:  the  mystery  is  not  only  the  “who”  of  van  Lome, 
but  the  “why”  of  van  Lome.  Why  two  such  capable  editors  as  Tre¬ 
maine  and  Campbell  felt  compelled  to  publish  the  hackwork  of  Warner 
van  Lome  is  a  continuing  puzzle  to  older  fans.  K,  as  Lowndes  sug¬ 
gests,  Tremaine  was  van  Lome  this  would,  of  course,  explain  the  reg¬ 
ular  appearances  of  van  Lome  in  the  pages  of  Astounding  more  readily 
than  anything  else.  At  any  rate,  “The  Blue  Men  of  "Yrano”  marked  the 
end  of  Warner  van  Lome  in  Astovmding  and  no  one  was  sorry  to  see 
him  go. 

The  rest  of  the  issue  was  rather  lacklustre.  Manly  Wade  Wellman 
brought  his  two-part  serial,  “Nuisance  Value”  to  a  conclusion,  de  Camp 
continued  the  adventures  of  the  popular  Johnny  Black  in  “The  Incorri¬ 
gible,”  and  Norman  L.  Knight  had  the  best  story  in  the  issue,  “Saurian 
Valedictory,”  which  told  of  a  large  slab  of  tourmaline  found  in  the 
Ozarks  which  acted  as  a  mirror  reflecting  the  past  of  fifty  million 
years  ago  into  the  present.  Josh  McNab  was  back  in  “The  First  Shall 
Be  Last,”  Vic  Phillips  had  the  cover  story,  “Maiden  Voyage,”  and 
Malcolm  Jameson  was  back  with  his  third  story,  “Mill  of  the  Gods.” 
The  cover  was  by  John  Frew,  his  only  one. 

February  had  three  outstanding  features:  an  eye-catching  cover  by 
a  new  artist,  Hubert  Rogers,  illustrating  the  second  feature.  Jack 
Williamson’s  novelette,  “Crucible  of  Power,”  and  the  beginning  of  a 
magnificent  new  serial  by  Clifford  D.  Simak,  “Cosmic  Engineers,”  his 
first  of  many  fine  novels. 

Rogers  was  new  only  to  Astounding;  he  had  been  around  since  the 
late  twenties  on  such  magazines  as  Adventure  (February  1st,  1928, 
etc.),  but  this  was  his  first  known  attempt  at  science  fiction.  As  Wesso 
was  the  cover  artist  identified  with  the  Clayton  era,  and  Brown  with 
the  Tremaine,  so  will  Rogers  always  be  identified  with  the  Golden  Age. 
And  Rogers  will  always  remain  a  significant  Astounding  cover  artist. 
Wesso  was  fine,  sometimes  great;  Brown  was  generally  excellent;  but 
Rogers  was  nearly  always  superb.  This  cover  was  predominantly  red, 
the  red  of  a  Martian  desert,  with  the  silver  hulk  of  a  crashed  space 
ship  cutting  diagonally  across  the  cover  and  a  man  staggering  away 
from  it  appearing  in  the  foreground.  A  beautiful  cover  I 

Williamson’s  story,  “Crucible  of  Power,”  told  of  one  man’s  ruthless 
drive  for  power  on  Mars;  a  drive  for  cheap  power  for  the  industries  of 
Earth,  and  the  accompanying  drive  for  personal  power.  This  was 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


61 


IPCEFICTION 

t  SMift'PVSucATnN 


62 


ALVA  ROGERS 


Williamson  writing  in  the  modern  vein,  and  quite  successfully,  too. 

“Cosmic  Engineers,”  which  ran  for  three  installments,  very  nearly 
outdid  E.  E.  Smith’s  works  in  the  scope  of  its  power  and  action.  The 
story  starts  modestly  in  the  Solar  system  where  two  newspapermen 
discover  an  unpowered  space-shell  floating  in  the  orbit  of  Pluto.  On 
investigation  they  find  the  space-shell  contains  a  beautiful  young  lady 
who  has  lain  there  in  suspended  animation  for  one  thousand  years. 
They  revive  her  and  find  that  she  was  once  a  brilliant  scientist  who 
had  put  herself  into  suspended  animation  to  avoid  revealing  Important 
military  information  to  Jupiter  during  a  war  between  that  planet  and 
Earth  and  Mars.  While  her  physiological  fimctions  had  been  suspended 
her  brain  had  been  unaffected  and  she  had  spent  the  thousand  years 
thinking  and  developing  her  mind  to  a  fantastic  degree.  The  boys  take 
her  to  Pluto  and  while  there  she  is  able  to  understand  the  messages 
that  have  been  coming  from  the  Cosmic  Engineers,  beings  who  live  on 
the  rim  of  the  exploding  universe,  warning  of  an  impending  collision 
between  our  universe  and  another  universe.  From  here  the  action 
moves  to  the  very  edge  of  the  universe,  to  the  next  universe,  into  inter¬ 
space,  gets  involved  with  parallel  time  and  probable  worlds,  and — as 
if  all  this  wasn’t  enough  to  plague  the  protagonists— Simak  throws  in 
the  additional  menace  of  a  race  of  creatures  called  the  Hellhounds  who 
have  been  warring  with  the  Cosmic  Engineers  for  a  million  years,  and 
who  are  trying  to  prevent  them  from  solving  their  problem,  hoping 
that  when  the  two  universes  are  destroyed  they  can  step  in  and  pick  up 
the  pieces. 

Pure,  unadulterated  space  opera.  But  Simak  handled  his  vast  canvas 
with  its  ultra-cosmic  concepts  so  deftly  that  it  couldn’t  help  being  a 
tremendous  story  in  the  great  Smith-Campbell  tradition. 

March  saw  the  last  appearance  of  the  Don  A.  Stuart  byline  in 
Astounding.  This  was  the  classic  “Cloak  of  Aesir,”  sequel  to  the 
eqxially  classic  “Out  of  Night”  of  1937.  Man’s  revolt,  with  the  aid  of 
the  chilling  Aesir,  against  the  benevolent  but  firm  rule  of  the  Sarn- 
Mother  and  her  sisters  who  had  ruled  Earth  unopposed  for  fotir  thou¬ 
sand  years,  is  finally  brought  to  a  triumphant  conclusion.  The  final 
scene,  where  the  immortal  Sarn-Mother  relinquishes  her  ages-old 
control  over  man  and  departs  for  her  home  world,  is  as  moving  a  bit 
of  writing  as  has  ever  appeared  in  science  fiction. 

Other  stories  in  this  issue  were  Burks’  “Follow  the  Bouncing  Ball," 
the  third  Josh  McNab  yam;  “Children  of  the  Betsy  B,”  by  Malcolm 
Jameson,  the  story  of  the  little  steam  launch  that  grew  up  and  went  to 
sea;  “A  Problem  in  Murder,”  by  H.  L.  Gold,  which  brought  back  the 
reporter-detective  hero  of  “A  Matter  of  Form,”  and  the  second  in¬ 
stallment  of  “Cosmic  Engineers.” 

The  cover  was  by  another  artist  new  to  Astounding,  but  not  to  the 
pulp  field:  Graves  Gladney,  a  rather  disappointing  artist  who  didn’t 
last  too  long  here.  The  interior  illustrations  were  handled  competently 
by  Binder,  Orban,  and  Wesso,  and  superbly  by  Schneeman  for  “Cloak 
of  Aesir.” 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


63 


It  might  be  well  to  pause  here  and  examine  briefly  the  science  fiction 
field,  which  was  on  the  threshold  of  its  first  great  boom,  in  order  to 
better  relate  Astounding  to  it,  and  emphasize  that  Astounding  didn’t 
exist  in  a  vacuum. 

Prior  to  August,  1938  the  field  in  America  consisted  of  three  legiti¬ 
mate  science  fiction  magazines;  Astounding,  Wonder,  and  Amazing. 
(There  were  three  or  four  quasi-science  fiction  and  fantasy  magazines 
on  the  fringe  of  the  field,  but  they  were  hardly  classifiable  as  legiti¬ 
mate.)  In  1936  Wonder  was  taken  over  from  Gemsback  by  Better 
Publications  and  its  name  changed  to  Thrilling  Wonder  Stories. 
This  change  gave  the  magazine  a  much  needed  shot  in  the  arm  and 
it  soon  rapidly  approached  ^tounding  in  popularity  with  stories  by 
such  authors  as  Weinbaum,  Williamson,  John  W.  Campbell,  Jr.,  Dr. 
David  H.  Keller,  and  others.  Its  pre-war  peak  was  reached  with  the 
Tenth  Anniversary  Issue  in  June,  1939.  This  issue  featured  the  short 
novel,  *Dawn  of  Flame,”  by  Weinbaum,  “Robot  Nemesis,”  by  Edward 
Elmer  Smith,  Ph.D.,  “The  Ultimate  Catalyst,”  by  John  Taine,  and  “The 
Man  Without  a  World,”  by  John  Coleman  Burroughs  and  Hulbert  Bur¬ 
roughs,  the  sons  of  Edgar  Rice  Burroughs.  In  addition  to  the  short 
novel  and  the  novelettes  there  were  short  stories  by  Jack  Williamson, 
Otis  Adelbert  Kline,  Eando  Binder,  and  Dr.  David  H.  Keller.  The  cover 
was  by  Howard  V.  Brown,  and  the  illustrations  were  by  Virgil  Finlay, 
Jack  Binder  (brother  of  Eando),  Marchioni,  and  Wesso. 

gazing  Stories,  which  Just  barely  managed  to  keep  alive  during  the 
mid-thirties,  was  taken  over  in  1938  by  Ziff-Davis  of  Chicago,  who 
installed  old  time  fan  and  sometime -writer,  Raymond  A.  Palmer,  as 
editor.  Palmer  made  a  completely  new  magazine  of  Amazing  by 
abandoning  the  cerebral,  and  rather  stuffy  policy  of  the  past,  and 
establishing  a  policy  aimed  deliberately  at  the  non-critical  young  teen¬ 
ager.  Although  the  magazine  was  scorned  by  older  (and  presumably 
more  sophisticated)  fans.  Palmer  occasionally  confounded  them  by 
publishing  such  items  as  Stanley  G.  Weinbaum's  superman  novel,  “The 
New  Adam,”  and  a  number  of  Edgar  Rice  Burroughs’  novelettes,  all  of 
which  are  collectors’  items  today. 

In  August,  1936,  Marvel  Science  Stories,  the  first  new  science  fiction 
magazine  to  be  published  since  the  short-lived  Miracle  Science  and 
Fantasy  in  1931  (not  cotmting  William  Crawford’s  semi-professional 
Marvel  Tales,  published  briefly  in  1935  with  an  infinitesimal  clrcula- 
tion),  appeared  on  the  newsstands.  This  magazine  showed  great 
promise  at  first  with  such  full  length  novels  as  Arthur  J.  Burks’ 
“Exodus”  and  “Survival,”  John  Taine’s  “Tomorrow,”  and  Jack  William¬ 
son’s  “After  World’s  End.”  This  promise  was  not  kept,  and  the  maga¬ 
zine  soon  turned  into  a  purveyor  of  a  sex-and- sadism  form  of  science 
fiction  that  revolted  all  lovers  of  true  science  fiction. 

The  second  of  the  new  magazines  was  Startlii^  Stories,  a  companion 
to  Thrilling  Wonder  Stories.  The  first  issue,  dated  January,  1939,  fea- 
tured  the  great  posthumous” short  novel  “The  Black  Flame,”  by  Stanley 
Weinbaum.  The  third  was  Dimamic  Stories,  which  lasted  for  only  two 


64 


ALVA  ROGERS 


issues.  In  February,  two  new  magazines  dated  March,  1939  appeared. 
The  first  of  these  was  the  previously  mentioned  Science  Fiction,  edited 
by  Charles  Homig,  the  second  was  the  Incomparable  Unsown,  the  new 
fantasy  companion  to  Astounding  edited  by  John  W.  Campbell,  Jr. 

Sometime  during  193fi,  Campbell  received  a  manuscript  from  Eric 
Frank  Russell  which, he  said,  impressed  him  tremendously.  However, 
great  as  the  novel  was,  it  didn’t  seem  to  fit  into  the  policy  he’d  set  for 
Astoxmdlng;  however.  It  seemed  perfect  for  launching  a  new  magazine 
he’d  been  planning  for  several  months,  a  magazine  which  would  serve 
up  a  new,  offbeat  form  of  fantasy  . . .  not  weird  and  not  science  fiction, 
borrowing  the  best  from  both,  with  the  addition  of  a  good  helpii^  of 
humor.  The  new  m^azine.  Unknown,  got  off  to  a  sensational  start 
with  Russell’s  fifty-thousand  word  novel,  “Sinister  Barrier,”  which 
was  based  on  Charles  Fort’s  thesis  that  “we  are  property.” 

In  the  remaining  thirty-eight  issues  the  novels  and  stories  ranged 
all  the  way  from  the  blood-curdling  “It,”  by  Theodore  Sturgeon,  to  the 
ribald,  Thome  Smlthish  “The  Mislaid  Charm,”  by  A.  M.  Phillips.  It 
is  hard  not  to  go  on  and  on,  mentioning  the  great  and  well  remembered 
stories  from  this  remarkable  magazine;  “None  But  Lucifer,”  by  H. 
L.  Gold  and  L.  Sprague  de  Camp;  “Fear,”  by  L.  Hon  Hubbard;  “Hell 
Hath  Fury,”  by  Cleve  Cartmill;  “But  Without  Homs,”  by  Norvell  W. 
Page;  “Lest  Darkness  Fall,”  by  de  Camp;  ‘Darker  Than  You  Think," 
by  Jack  Williamson;  “The  Devil  Makes  the  Law  I”  by  Robert  Heinlein; 
“Hell  is  Forever,”  by  Alfred  Bester.  Never  to  be  forgotten,  also, 
were  the  marvelously  appropriate  covers  and  illustrations  of  the  one 
perfect  artist  for  Unknown:  Edd  Cartier. 

Unknown,  by  the  way,  was  not  the  first  magazine  to  be  brought  out 
as  a  companion  to  Astounding.  In  September,  1931  the  Cla3rton  chain 
introduced  Str^ge  Tales,  also  edited  by  Harry  Bates,  as  a  bi-monthly 
companion  to  Astoimding  Stories,  and  as  a  competitor  to  Weird  Tales, 
the  magazine  which  had  ruled  supreme  in  that  specialized  field  since 
1923.  Strange  Tales  never  dethroned  Weird  Tales,  but  in  its  total  of 
seven  issues  it  did  publish  many  fine  tales  of  the  weird  and  occult  by 
such  masters  as  Dr.  Henry  S.  Whitehead,  Clark  Ashton  Smith,  Robert 
E.  Howard,  Ray  Cummings,  and  others. 

But  to  get  back  to  science  fiction.  In  May  of  1939,  Ziff-Davis  brought 
out  Fantastic  Adventures  in  a  large-size  format  to  provide  a  fantasy 
companion  to  Amazing  Sltories  and  competition  to  Unknown,  but  it  was 
never  in  a  class  with  Unknown.  From  this  point  on  and  for  the  next 
couple  of  years  new  magazines  continued  to  appear  with  remarkable 
frequency.  The  first  issue  of  Planet  Stories  was  dated  Winter,  1939. 
Astonishing  Stories  and  Super  Science  Stories  were  two  fine  magazines 
edited  in  the  beginning  by  Frederik  Pohl  and  which  in  many  ways  were 
second  only  to  Astoimding  in  quality  during  the  early  forties.  And  then 
there  were  those  two  unique  magazines.  Famous  Fantastic  Mysteries 
and  Fantastic  Novels  (the  latter  lastii^  for  only  five  issues  before 
being  combined  with  the  former)  which,  until  1943,  were  composed 
almost  entirely  of  reprints  of  the  great  fantasy  classics  from  the  old 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


65 


Munsey  magazines.  And  Future  Fiction,  later  to  merge  with  Science 
Fiction  to  become  Future  Combined  With  Science  Fiction,  and  still 
later  to  change  its  name  back  to  Science  Fiction.  A  comipmlon  to  this 
multi-titled  magazine  was  Science  Fiction  Quarterly,  which  featured 
reprints  of  earlier  novels,  particularly  those  of  Ray  Cmnmings.  Three 
short-lived  magazines  were  Comet  Stories,  edited  by  none  other  than 
F.  Orlin  Tremaine,  which  lasted  five  issues.  Cosmic  Stories,  which 
lasted  three,  and  Stirring  Science  Stories,  which  saw  four  issues. 

And  finally  there  was  that  most  remarkable  magazine.  Captain 
Future .  A  companion  magazine  to  Thrilling  Wonder  Stories  and 
Startling  Stories,  Captain  Future  featured  in  each  issue  a  complete 
space  opera  concerning  the  adventures  of  Curt  Newton,  known  through¬ 
out  the  Solar  system  as  Captain  Future,  and  his  band  of  dedicated 
Futuremen,  Grag  the  robot,  Otho  the  android,  Simon  Wright  the  disem¬ 
bodied  brain  occupying  a  metal  box  which  moves  about  on  beams  of 
force,  and  others.  Although  the  “Captain  Future”  novels  were  never 
great  in  a  literary  sense,  they  were  great  fun  to  read.  The  majority — 
and  the  best— of  the  “Captain  Future”  novels  were  written  by  one  of 
the  real  old  pros,  Edmond  Hamilton  who,  although  writing  formula 
tales,  couldn’t  help  but  give  them  a  little  something  extra  from  his 
years  of  writing  experience.  Hamilton,  in  company  with  his  equally 
talented  wife,  Leigh  Brackett,  finally  received  the  recognition  from 
the  fans  he  long  deserved  by  being  chosen  Guest  of  Honor  at  the  (1964) 
22nd  World  Science  Fiction  Convention  in  Oakland. 

These  then  were  the  science  fiction  magazines  (not  counting  the 
British  magazines)  which  made  up  the  field  during  the  Golden  Age  of 
the  forties.  Some  of  these  magazines  at  times  gave  Astounding  a  real 
challenge  for  leadership  of  the  field,  but  never  quite  managed  to  over¬ 
take  it.  The  duo  of  Astounding  and  Unknown  was  an  unbeatable  combi¬ 
nation  that  has  never  before,  or  since,  been  equaled. 

The  April  Astounding  was  distinguished  by  one  of  the  finest  of  the 
many  astronomical  covers  presented  over  the  years.  A  dramatic  view 
of  Saturn  and  its  rings  as  seen  from  Japetus,  it  was  painted  by  Charles 
Schneeman  and  illustrated  Nat  Schachner’s  featured  novelette,  “Worlds 
Don’t  Care.”  This  story  was  in  a  more  mature  style  for  Schachner, 
dealing  as  it  did  primarily  with  problems  in  human  relations,  rather 
than  with  startling  scientific  concepts.  “Cosmic  Engineers*  concluded 
and  Campbell  was  prompted  to  ask,  in  ‘Analytical  Laboratory”  (the 
department  in  which  ratings  of  the  stories— based  on  reader  response 
—are  published),  for  comments  from  the  general  reader  as  to  their 
opinions  respecting  this  type  of  super  science  yam  for  the  future. 
The  response  was  mixed,  but  my  own  reaction  to  the  story  was  en¬ 
thusiastic  approval. 

The  big  news  this  issue  was  the  beginning  of  ‘One  Against  the 
Legion,”  Jack  Williamson’s  concluding  novel  in  the  “Legion  of  Space” 
trilogy,  my  favorite  of  the  three  novels,  although  generally  regarded 
as  the  least  of  the  trio.  Williamson  had  a  most  intriguing  villain  in 


ALVA  ROGERS 


the  Basilisk,  and  the  problems  confronting  the  Legion  in  this  adventure 
were  a  little  more  human  and  believable  than  in  the  previous  novels. 
Another  aspect  of  the  novel  that  increased  its  enjoyment  for  me  was 
the  fuller  disclosure  of  the  shadowy  past  of  Giles  Habibula  that  had 
only  been  hinted  at  before.  And  to  top  it  off,  the  illustrations  by  Orban 
were  perfect  for  this  story.  Orban,  incidentally,  is  an  artist  who  has 
done  yeoman  work  over  the  years  and  has  been  consistently  under¬ 
rated. 

P.  Schuyler  Miller’s  “Coils  of  Time”  was  the  subject  of  an  xminspired 
cover  by  Graves  Gladney  for  the  May  issue.  “Coils  of  Time*  was  a 
sequel  to  the  classic  “Sands  of  Time”  which  appeared  in  the  April, 
1937  issue  but,  while  an  excellent  story  in  Its  own  right,  it  wasn’t  the 
equal  of  the  earlier  story.  L.  Sprague  de  Camp  contributed  another 
superlative  article  to  this  issue.  In  this  case,  the  first  installment  of 
a  two-part  article  entitled  “Design  for  Life”  which  was  a  closely 
reasoned  analysis  of  Earth’s  life  forms  and  a  detailed  speculation  on 
probable  extra-terrestrial  intelligent  life  forms.  De  Camp  also  had  an 
interesting  short  story  under  the  byline  of  Lyman  R.  Lyon,  “Employ¬ 
ment,”  about  the  reconstruction  and  resurrection  of  a  woolly  mammoth 
by  reconstituting  its  atom  structure. 

Lester  del  Rey’s  “Day  is  Done”  was  a  nicely  told,  emotion  laden 
story  of  the  passing  of  the  last  Neanderthal  man  and  the  emergence 
of  Cro-Magnon.  John  Berryman, a  new  author,  in  his  novelette  “Special 
Flight,”  presented  one  of  the  more  realistic  and  detailed  pictures  of 
the  routines  of  space  flight  yet  to  appear  in  science  fiction;  an  exciting 
and  interesting  story.  “One  Against  the  Legion”  continued  to  develop 
the  menace  of  the  Basilisk,  and  the  remarkable  talents  of  Giles  Habibula 
were  reluctantly  revealed  by  the  old  tosspot. 

Jime  brought  the  year  to  its  halfway  point  with  still  no  real  sign  of 
the  Golden  Age  as  yet. 

Another  of  Graves  Gladney’s  depressing  covers  graced  this  issue, 
purportedly  illustrating  Slmak’s  “Hermit  of  Mars,”  which  was  a  return 
to  a  more  realistic  and  simple  theme  after  the  excesses  of  “Cosmic 
Engineers.”  Josh  McNab,  the  good  ship  Arachne,  and  Arthur  J.  Burks 
all  made  their  final  appearances  in  Astounding  with  the  novelette  “Done 
in  Oil.”  “Design  for  Life”  concluded  in  this  issue  with  de  Camp  prov¬ 
ing  to  nearly  everyone’s  satisfaction  that  if  intelligent  life  does  de¬ 
velop  on  other  planets  it  wIU  look  not  so  much  like  a  chrysanthemum 
or  starfish,  but  will  probably  look  somewhat  like  a  man. 

Chan  Derron,  the  disgraced  and  hunted  Legion  officer  who  was  the 
hero  of  “One  A^inst  the  Legion,”  and  wily  old  Giles  Habibula  solved 
the  mystery  of  the  Basilisk,  upheld  the  honor  of  the  Legion,  saved  the 
world  from  possible  destruction,  and  brought  the  “Legion  of  Space” 
saga  to  a  satisfying  conclusion.  This  trilogy  of  “The  Legion  of  Space,” 
“The  Cometeers,”  and  “One  Against  the  Legion”  remains  one  of  the 
enduring  classic  adventures  of  early  science  fiction,  and  should  have 
a  place  alongside  the  epics  of  E.  E.  Smith  and  John  W.  Campbell,  Jr. 
on  any  true  fan’s  library  shelf  as  examples  of  early  space  opera. 


WORLDS  DON’T  CARE  by  nat  schachner 

April,  1939;  the  famous  “Saturn”  painting  by  Charles  Schneeman. 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


unques-  p 
tionably 
the  first 
real  har¬ 
binger  of 
Astovmding’a 
Golden  Age .  Starting 
with  the  cover,  a  su 
prisingly  effective  job  by 
Graves  Gladney,  straight 
through  the  table  of  contents, 
it  was  an  outstanding  number. 

The  cover  was  done 
red  and  illustrated  “Black  Destroy 
er*  by  a  new  author,  A.  E.  van  Vogt, 

Van  Vogt’s  introductory  effort  in  the 
science  fiction  field  was  an  auspicious  one. 

The  death  struggle  between  Coeurl,  the  cunning  and  powerful  catlike 
survivor  of  a  once  mighty  race,  and  the  scientists  aboard  the  space 
ship  Beagle  who  discover  Coeurl  prowling  the  wastes  of  his  dead  planet, 
was  told  with  great  sympathy  for  the  foredoomed  Coeurl.  Van  Vogt’s 
prose  was  crisp  and  believable  and  the  story  moved  along  at  an  almost 
breathless  pace.  This  one  story  rocketed  van  Vogt  to  the  top  level  of 
Astoimding  writers;  a  position  he  was  to  hold  for  many  years  to  come. 

C.  L.  Moore  made  one  of  her  infrequent  contributions  with  her  ex¬ 
cellent  novelette,  “Greater  than  Gods,”  a  suspenseful  and  sensitive 
story  of  alternate  futures.  This  story  was  illustrated  by  Sc hneeman 
with  some  of  the  finest  drawings  of  his  career.  “Past,  Present,  and 
Future”  were  back  again,  this  time  in  “The  City  of  Cosmic  Rays.” 
Good  old  Schachner  had  just  abo”t  milked  this  series  dry,  but  still 
managed  to  provide  a  bit  of  light  divertissement  in  this  formula  tale. 

A  fan,  and  frequent  letter  writer  to  “Brass  Tacks,”  made  his  debut 
in  Astounding  with  his  second  published  story,  “Trends.”  With  this 
story,  Isaac  Asimov  really  began  a  writing  career  that  is  still  going 
strong.  “Trends”  was  a  sociological  story  of  mass  hysteria  and  re¬ 
ligious  fanaticism  in  conflict  with  man’s  first  attempts  at  space  flight. 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  69 


Although  time  has  nullified  Asimov’s  basic  premise,  this  remains  a 
singularly  perceptive  and  powerful  story  and  is  in  every  sense  a  classic. 
The  remaining  stories,  “Lightship,  Ho !”  by  Nelson S.  Bond,  “The  Moth,” 
by  Ross  Rocklynne,  and  “When  the  Half  Gods  Go,”  by  Amelia  R.  Long 
were  entertaining  but  not  particularly  notable.  But  as  a  bonus  Willy 
Ley  gave  us  another  of  his  informative  articles,  this  one  a  sort  of 
companion  to  L.  Sprague  de  Camp’s  “Language  for  Time  Travelers,” 
called  “Geography  for  Time  Travelers.” 

Robert  Heinlein,  who  more  than  any  other  writer  was  responsible 
for  making  the  Golden  Age  of  the  early  forties  a  reality,  appeared  for 
the  first  time  in  the  August  issue  with  a  short  story,  “Life-Line.”  The 
story  of  Dr.  Pinero  and  his  chronovitameter,  the  gadget  Pinero  used 
for  predicting  individual  life-lines,  told  with  Heinlein’s  deft  touches 
that  enhanced  its  believability,  was  an  excellent  story,  but  the  great 
stories  that  were  soon  to  come  were  certainly  not  intimated  by  this 
first  effort. 

“Life-Line,”  and  van  Vogt’s  “Black  Destroyer”  the  preceding  month, 
combined  to  introduce  to  a  receptive  audience  an  altogether  new  type 
of  science  fiction.  Perhaps  we  weren’t  really  aware  that  a  milestone 
had  been  reached,  but  even  so,  most  of  the  readers  recognized  the 
quality  of  both  stories,  placing  “Black  Destroyer”  in  first  place  for 
July,  and  “Life-Line”  second  for  August.  One  of  the  elements  that  set 


70 


ALVA  ROGERS 


these  stories  apart,  that  helped  contribute  to  their  greatness,  was  that 
of  approach.  Van  Vogt’s  classic  was  essentially  a  BEM  horror  tale;  in 
the  hands  of  a  less  talented  writer,  that  is  exactly  all  it  would  have 
been.  But  van  Vogt  endowed  Coeurl  with  intelligence,  an  intrinsic 
code  of  values,  and  motivation  that  made  him,  in  spite  of  his  alienness 
and  ferocity,  a  believable  and  sjnnpathetic  creature;  a  far  cry  from 
the  typical  BEM  of  the  recent  past.  And  Heinlein  took  what  was  after 
all  only  a  gadget  story,  albeit  an  intriguing  one,  and  through  skillful 
characterization  and  an  eye  for  subtle  detail,  transformed  it  into  a 
rather  biting  bit  of  social  commentary. 

“The  Luck  of  Ignatz,”  by  Lester  del  Rey  was  the  featured  novelette 
this  issue  and  rated  a  disappointing  and  unrecognizable  cover  by  Virgil 
Finlay— the  only  cover  Finlay  ever  painted  for  Astounding.  Ignatz  was 
an  armadillo-like  creature  from  the  swamps  of  Venus  with  a  high 
level  of  intelligence  and  the  ability  to  understand  languages,  but  not  to 
speak  them.  Ignatz  was  the  inseparable  mascot  of  the  unfortunate 
spaceman  who  was  his  “master”;  unfortunate  because  Venusian  Zloahts 
are  imiversally  known  to  be  Jonahs. 

L.  Sprague  de  Camp  had  an  interesting  and  slightly  cock-eyed  story 
of  uncontrolled  animal  mutations  on  an  African  game  preserve  called 
“The  Blue  Giraffe,”  and  P.  Schuyler  Miller  was  moderately  successful 
with  “Pleasure  Trove”  which  dealt  with  the  search  on  another  system 
for  a  narcotic  pleasure  dust.  The  best  feature  of  this  story  was  the 
loving  care  Miller  lavished  on  his  picaresque  characters.  “General 
Swamp,  C.  I.  C.,”  a  two-part  serial  beginning  this  month  authored  by 
Frederick  Engelhardt  was  a  forgettable  tale  concerning  the  rebellion  of 
the  Venusian  colonies  against  mother  Earth. 

And  finally,  it  should  be  noted  that  this  issue  marked  the  passing 
from  the  pages  of  Astounding  of  the  old  master,  Ray  Cummings,  with  a 
very  poor  short  story,  “An  Ultimatmn  from  Mars.” 

For  the  third  consecutive  month.  Astounding  presented  the  first 
story  of  one  of  the  modern  giants  of  science  fiction:  in  July  it  was  A. 
E.  van  Vogt  with  “Black  Destroyer,”  in  August  it  was  Robert  A. 
Heinlein  with  “Life-Line,”  and  now,  in  September,  it  was  Theodore 
Sturgeon  with  “Ether  Breather.”  This  was  a  very  funny  yam  about 
creatures  inhabiting  the  ether  who  play  havoc  with  normal  commercial 
television  broadcasts.  Incidentally,  this  story  written  in  1939  presents 
a  remarkably  accurate  picture  of  commerci^  television  as  we  know  it 
today.  This  story  took  first  place  in  the  “Analytical  Lab”  with  no 
trouble  whatsoever.  Except  for  the  Sturgeon  story,  the  issue  was  not 
particularly  noteworthy,  with  the  possible  further  exception  of  Rogers’ 
second  Astounding  cover,  illustrating  Manly  Wade  Wellman’s  “Forces 
Must  Balance  I”  and  Schneeman’s  forceful  interiors  for  the  same  story. 

The  October  issue  brought  back  the  mighty  Kimball  Kinnison  and  the 
Galactic  Patrol  in  “Gray  Lensman.”  To  begin  with,  the  Rogers  cover 
is  perhaps  one  of  the  most  memorable  paintir^s  of  the  era.  It  shows 
Kinnison,  arms  akimbo,  his  Lens  gleaming  on  his  right  wrist,  clad 
entirely  in  gray  leather,  standing  with  legs  apart  before  the  open  port 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


72 


ALVA  ROGERS 


of  a  space  ship.  The  background  was  done  in  steel  blue,  green,  and 
black;  tremendously  impressive.  Oddly  enough,  whoever  had  to  do  with 
setting  up  the  type  for  the  cover  became  confused  over  the  spelling  of 
gray  and  used  the  British  “grey”  in  the  title  on  the  cover,  whereas  the 
correct  “gray”  is  used  throughout  the  story. 

This  issue  began  the  seventh  year  of  Street  &  Smith’s  ^toundi^ 
and  Campbell’s  third  year  as  editor,  Campbell  was  justifiably  boastful 
about  celebrating  this  double  event  with  the  beginning  of  E,  E,  Smith’s 
greatest  novel.  This  was  a  long  novel— 100,000  words,  or  maybe  a 
little  more— and  would  run  for  four  long  installments.  According  to 
Campbell,  If  “Gray  Lensman”  were  to  be  published  in  installments  of 
the  usual  length  it  would  run  not  for  six  months,  but  for  eight, 

“Gray  Lensman”  was  illustrated  by  Schneeman  who  was  much  more 
effective  than  Wesso  had  been  with  his  illustrations  for  “Galactic 
Patrol,” 

After  his  destruction  of  Helmuth  and  his  Grand  Base,  Kinnison 
discovers  that  Helmuth  was  not  the  top  of  the  Boskonian  hierarchy  and 
the  Boskonian  menace  to  Civilization  was  not  ended  by  his  death,  Kin¬ 
nison  gets  a  partial  line  on  what  he  believes  to  be  the  true  base  of  the 
forces  of  Boskone,  somewhere  in  Lundmark’s  Nebula,  and  embarks  on 
his  implacable  and  circuitous  pursuit  of  the  being  he  believes  Boskone 
to  be  by  ferreting  out  the  underling  zwilniks  (drug  peddlers)  operating 
in  our  galaxy  as  agents  of  Boskone,  During  a  scouting  expedition  into 
the  Second  Galaxy  in  his  superdreadnaught,  the  Dauntless,  he  comes 
across  for  the  first  time  a  member  of  the  Eich—“speakingfor  Boskone” 
—and  the  problem  of  the  true  identity  of  Boskone  is  intensified  and 
further  complicated. 

The  effect  that  Smith  had  on  the  average  fan  during  these  years  is 
hard  to  explain  today.  However,  an  interesting  attempt  at  this  was 
made  by  Alfred  Bester  in  his  book  review  column  in  the  December, 
1960  issue  of  The  Magazine  of  Fantasy  and  Science  Fiction,  In  his 
review  of  Smith’s  The'vortex  Blaster  (Gnome  Press,  1960),  a  novel 
based  on  short  stories  from  Comet  and  Astonishing,  and  related  to  the 
Lensman  saga,  he  said:  “For  years  this  department  has  wondered  why 
the  space  operas  of  E,  E,  Smith  have  never  failed  to  enchant  us  and  we 
read  his  latest,  The  Vortex  Blaster,  with  great  attention , , ,  we  know 
now  the  secret  of  Mr,  Smith’s  hypnotic  effect  on  us.  We  found  the  clue 
in  a  passage  describing  the  hero  on  his  way  to  a  posh  reception,,,,” 
He  goes  on  to  quote  the  passage  and  then  concludes,  “‘By  God!  It’s 
none  other  than  the  legendary  John  Carter  of  Mars,’  we  exclaimed, 
looking  around  for  Thuvia,  Maid  of  Mars,  and  good  old  Tars  Tarkas, 
Dr,  Smith  never  fails  to  transport  us  back  into  our  childhood,  and 
we’re  properly  grateful,” 

This  is,  of  course,  a  latter  day  assessment  of  the  good  Dr,  Smith. 
At  the  time  of  the  appearance  of  “Gray  Lensman,”  Dr,  Smith  was  still 
regarded  by  most  fans  as  the  biggest  name  in  the  field.  This  regard, 
and  affection,  was  emphasized  in  Chicago  in  September  of  1940  when 
“Doc”  Smith  reigned  as  Guest  of  Honor  at  the  Second  World  Science 


October,  1939;  “Gray  Lensman”  illustration  by  Charles  Schneeman. 

Fiction  Convention. 

The  affection  and  esteem  that  old  time  fans  hold  for  Doc  Smith  con¬ 
tinues  to  this  day,  a  feeling  not  only  for  the  stories  he  has  given  to 
science  fiction,  but  for  Doc  himself  as  a  wonderful  person.  At  the 
(1963)  21st  Vorld  Science  Fiction  Convention,  in  Washington,  D.C., 
Doc  Smith  was  presented  the  First  Fandom  Hall  of  Fame  trophy  for 
his  contributions  to  the  field  of  science  fiction.  And  all  in  the  field  of 
science  fiction,  fans  and  professionals  alike,  sorrowed  at  the  news  of 
Doc  Smith’s  death  at  the  age  of  75,  of  a  heart  attack, on  August  8, 1965. 

“Gray  Lensman”  was  again  featured  on  the  cover  of  the  November 
issue  with  a  superb  painting  by  Hubert  Rogers.  In  this  Installment  of 
what  Campbell  claimed  was  one  of  the  longest  science  fiction  novels 
ever  written,  Kinnison  settles  down  to  the  job  of  laboriously  digging 
for  a  new  line  on  Boskone  by  infiltrating  himself  into  the  confidences 
of  lower  echelon  zwilniks.  And  the  action  continues  breathlessly  apace. 


74 


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Heinlein  made  his  second  appearance  with  a  short  story  in  this  issue, 
“Misfit.”  In  this  sto^  Heinlein  took  the  New  Deal  CCC  (Civilian  Con¬ 
servation  Corps),  which  was  at  the  peak  of  its  activity  at  the  time,  and 
extrapolated  it  to  the  future  as  the  “Cosmic  Construction  Corps”  which 
was  organized  “ . . .  for  the  purpose  of  conserving  and  improving  our 
interplanetary  resources,  and  providing  useful,  healthful  occupations 
for  the  youth  of  this  planet.”  The  hero  of  this  tale  was  “Slipstick” 
Libby,  the  human  calculator,  who  would  reappear  in  a  secondary  role 
in  a  later  novel.  Although  this  was  not  one  of  Heinlein’s  better  stories 
it  was  the  first  to  demonstrate  his  skill  in  making  space  believable 
through  his  use  of  small  details  of  action  or  description  introduced 
almost  casually  into  the  narrative.  It  was  also  an  interesting  example 
of  extrapolation  on  contemporary  socio-political  themes  which  was  to 
be  his  major  source  of  inspiration  in  most  of  his  later  works. 

With  the  December  issue  the  dawn  year  of  the  Golden  Age  ended.  It 
had  been  a  good  year  with  several  outstanding  single  issues  and  Decem¬ 
ber  was  surely  one  of  them.  A.  E.  van  Vogt  was  back  with  his  second 
novelette,  and  for  the  second  time  given  the  cover,  a  miserable  thing 
by  Gilmore.  “Discord  in  Scarlet”  was  another  monster  story,  this 
time  involving  the  scientists  aboard  the  Beagle  with  Xtl,  a  frightening 
creature  with  awesome  powers.  Again,  as  in  “Black  Destroyer,”  the 
pooled  brains  and  teamwork  of  the  Beagle  crew  ultimately  prevailed 
over  the  great  intellect  and  superhuman  powers  of  the  alien  entity. 
Despite  the  basic  similarity  between  this  and  his  first  story,  van  Vogt 
infused  it  with  imagination  and  detail  enough  to  make  of  it  a  work  of 
classic  calibre.  Campbell  also  used  this  story  as  the  vehicle  for  a 
short-lived  printing  experiment  that  was  carried  on  simultaneously  in 
a  number  of  Street  &  Smith  magazines — accenting  the  black-and-white 
illustrations  with  red. 

Kimball  Kinnison  continued  his  pursuit  of  Boskone  in  the  third  in¬ 
stallment  of  “Gray  Lensman,”  and  Nat  Schachner  finally  concluded  the 
adventures  of  the  three  men  from  different  eras,  “Past,  Present,  and 
Future,”  with  “City  of  the  Corporate  Mind.”  Schachner  henceforth,  in 
the  handful  of  stories  yet  to  appear,  would  concern  himself  with  stories 
of  more  sociological  themes  than  he  had  in  the  past.  Wallace  West’s 
“Sculptures  of  Life”  presented  a  future  wherein  life  could  be  indefinitely 
prolonged  through  the  agency  of  new  bodies  “sculpted”  by  artists  skilled 
in  the  art  of  life  sculptoring.  It  was  a  better  than  average  story  and 
interesting  in  that  it  is  one  of  the  few  stories  in  the  field  that  used 
one  of  the  arts  as  a  springboard  for  its  science-fictional  idea. 


CHAPTER  VI 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE  BEGINS;  1940 


Although  the  last  half  of  the  year  just  concluded  contained 
many  of  the  stories  generally  associated  with  the  Golden 
Age,  i.e.,  “Black  Destroyer,”  “Life-Line,”  “Trends,”  “Gray 
Lensman,”  “Discord  in  Scarlet,”  etc.,  it  wasn’t  imtil  1940 
that  the  Golden  Age  came  into  full  being  and  set  the  pace 
that  was  to  be  maintained  over  the  next  four  or  five  years . . , 

At  first  glance  the  January  cover  by  Schneeman,  for  Harl  Vincent’s 
“Neutral  Vessel,”  was  disappointing,  but  closer  examination  led  one  to 
the  inescapable  conclusion  that  Charles  Schneeman  was  unquestionably 
one  of  the  finest  artists  illustrating  for  science  fiction  magazines,  if 
not  technically  the  best.  However,  the  majority  of  Schneeman’s  covers 
were  always  vaguely  disappointing  as  science  fiction  covers,  his 
artistic  ability  notwithstanding. 

Doc  Smith  really  cut  loose  with  everything  in  the  book  in  the  last 
installment  of  “Gray  Lensman.”  Kimball  Kinnison,  after  many  ad¬ 
ventures,  had  finally  found  the  locus  of  the  Boskonian  evil  on  the  planet 
Jamevon  in  the  Second  Galaxy,  “Lundmark’s  Nebula,”  the  home  world 
of  the  cold  blooded  race  of  the  Eich.  Boskone,  he  discovered,  was  not 
a  single  entity  as  he  had  always  believed,  butacouncilof  nine  composed 
of  the  Eich  with  one  Eichmil  as  its  head.  In  the  final  pages  of  the  novel 
the  massed  military  might  of  Civilization,  under  the  direction  of  the 
Galactic  Patrol  and  Kimball  Kinnison  converge  on  Jamevon,  and  after 
stupendous  battles  in  which  a  sphere  of  negative  force  chews  up  an  en¬ 
tire  planet,  and  the  Patrol  throws  inertialess  planets  around  like  billiard 
balls,  Jamevon  is  destroyed  and  with  it  the  council  of  the  Eich  and 
Boskone.  As  a  reward  for  his  efforts  Kinnison  is  appointed  Galactic 
Coordinator  of  the  Second  Galaxy.  And,  convinced  that  now  the  Bos¬ 
konian  menace  is  truly  eliminated,  Kim  feels  justified  in  finally 
planning  to  marry  Clarrissa  MacDougall  and  to  settle  down  to  a  life 


75 


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of  relative  peace  and  tranquility. 

Discounting  this  installment  of  “Gray  Lensman”  which,  like  all  of 
Smith’s  novels,  was  considered  in  a  class  by  itself,  the  best  story  in  the 
issue  was  Heinlein’s  “Requiem,”  a  true  gem  of  a  short  story.  I  doubt 
if  there’s  a  person  worthy  of  the  name  of  science  fiction  fan  who  on 
first  reading  this  story  didn’t  completely  identify  with  Harriman,  feel 
with  him  the  yearning  to  just  once— even  at  the  riskof  death— e^qierlence 
the  ecstasy  of  space  flight  and  to  set  foot  on  the  moon. 

Lester  del  Rey  contributed  a  delightful  story  to  this  issue,  “The 
Smallest  God.”  The  hero  of  this  story  is  a  small  rubber  doll  in  the 
form  of  the  god  Hermes  owned  by  a  scientist  experimenting  with 
radioactive  elements.  The  scientist  makes  a  paperweight  of  the  doll 
by  stuffing  it  with  a  tarry  waste  product  of  an  abortive  experiment. 
Hermes  eventuaUy  comes  to  life,  falls  in  love  with  the  daughter  of  his 
creator’s  enemy,  loses  her,  and  ultimately  achieves  a  full  sized  body 
and  settles  down  to  work  in  the  university  lab  with  Dr.  Hodges,  the 
scientist  who  accidentally  brought  him  to  life.  Although  it  soimds  like 
fantasy  it  was  science  fiction  told  with  insist  and  humor,  and  another 
in  del  Rey’s  increasing  string  of  excellent  stories  that  were  establish¬ 
ing  him  as  one  of  the  consistently  good  writers  of  Astounding  stories . 

With  the  February  issue  Heinlein,  after  only  three  short  stories, 
presented  us  with  the  first  of  his  powerful  novels  that  contributed  so 
much  to  the  legendary  status  of  the  early  forties.  Hubert  Rogers’ 
magnificent  cover  painting  of  a  huge  tank  with  three  rocket  ships  arcing 
above  it  served  to  announce  the  first  of  two  installments  of  “If  This 
Goes  On...”  Heinlein’s  short  novel  was  a  startlingly  realistic  picture 
of  a  total  dictatorship  in  America  wrapped  in  the  robes  of  a  religious 
cult.  Heinlein  displayed  considerable  authority  concerning  mob  psy¬ 
chology,  propaganda,  and  the  details  of  underground  rebeUion  in  this 
taut  accotmt  of  the  Cabal’s  overthrow  of  the  harsh  and  repressive 
dictatorship  of  the  Prophet  Incarnate.  The  skill  with  which  Heinlein 
wove  all  these  elements  into  his  story,  makii^  them  integral  to  the 
development  of  the  plot  but  never  letting  them  take  over  or  alow  the 
pace  of  the  story,  helped  to  make  “If  This  Goes  On...”  an  original  and 
distinctive  contribution  to  the  maturing  science  fiction  of  the  day. 

“If  This  Goes  On...”  was  the  second  Astounding  story  to  win  the 
NOVA  designation;  it  was  given  because  of  its  exceptional  presenta¬ 
tion,  its  power,  its  logic,  and  was  much  more  deserving  of  it  than  H. 
L.  Gold’s  “A  Matter  of  Form”  a  year  earlier,  the  first  of  the  NOVA 
stories. 

February  saw  L.  Ron  Hubbard,  who  had  been  since  its  inception  a 
year  ago  almost  a  monthly  fixture  in  Unknown,  return  to  Astounding 
after  better  than  a  year’s  absence  with  a  novelette,  “The  Professor 
Was  a  Thief.”  This  was  a  nutty  tale  of  a  screwball  professor  who 
stole  such  things  as  the  Empire  State  Building  and  Grant’s  Tomb  for 
his  model  railroad. 

March  had  another  in  the  series  of  astronomical  covers,  “Uranus 
Eclipsing  the  Sun,”  by  Gilmore,  which  illustrated  Nat  Schachner’s 


March,  1940;  “If  This  Goes  On...,”  by  Robert  A.  Heinlein. 

Illustration  by  Rogers. 

featured  novelette,  “Cold.”  This  was  another  of  Schachner’s  stories 
dealing  with  the  interrelationships  of  men  under  stress,  as  was  his 
excellent  novelette  for  April,  1939,  “Worlds  Don’t  Care,”  which,  in¬ 
terestingly  enough,  was  also  the  last  story  to  be  illustrated  with  an 
astronomical  cover;  Schneeman’s  beautiful  Saturn  painting. 

“If  This  Goes  On...”  concluded  in  this  issue  with  breathtaking  swift¬ 
ness  as  Heinlein  related  the  details  of  the  Cabal’s  minutely  planned 
and  flawlessly  executed  overthrow  of  the  dictatorship  of  the  Prophet 
Incarnate.  If  there  was  any  criticism  leveled  at  this  story  it  was 
because  it  was  too  short,  that  all  of  the  elements  introduced  into  the 
plot  were  not  fully  realized.  Perhaps.  But  on  the  other  hand,  this  was 
only  Heinlein’s  fourth  story,  and  his  first  effort  at  anything  longer  than 
a  short  story,  and  if  the  story’s  shortness  was  indeed  a  flaw  it  was 
more  than  compensated  for  by  its  immediacy  and  its  flashes  of  brilliance . 

“Final  Blackout”  by  L.  Ron  Hubbard,  a  novel  in  three  parts,  began 
with  the  April  issue.  This  novel  precipitated  a  very  bitter  name¬ 
calling  controversy  in  the  pages  of  “Brass  Tacks,”  and  elsewhere. 
The  story  was  essentially  a  simple  one  of  survival  in  a  Europe  almost 
totally  devastated  after  several  generations  of  war.  The  hero  (identified 
only  as  “the  Lieutenant”)  was  a  man  born  during  a  bombardment  who 
grows  to  manhood  in  the  environment  of  total  war.  Leading  a  brigade 
of  “unkillables”  the  Lieutenant  fights  his  way  to  military  dictatorship 
of  England  and  ensures  his  great  triumph,  the  preservation  of  English 
independence  from  the  United  States,  by  arranging  his  own  death. 

Hubbard  assumed  two  key  premises  on  which  he  based  the  develop- 


78 


ALVA  RCXJERS 


ment  of  events  in  his  story:  that  the  war  in  Europe  would  grind  on  to 
the  point  where  governments  and  national  boundaries  disintegrated, 
communications  broke  down,  and  the  war  devolved  into  localized 
skirmishes  between  roving  bands  of  armed  and  uniformed  brigands  and 
that  the  United  States  would  remain  neutral  and  completely  uninvolved 
in  the  conflict. 

To  more  fully  understand  the  controversy  this  novel  aroused  it 
might  be  well  to  examine  briefly  the  picture  of  things  as  they  were  at 
the  time  this  story  was  written  and  published.  Hubbard  (always  an  in¬ 
credibly  fast  and  sure  writer)  wrote  this  during  the  first  weeks  of  the 
war,  as  Poland  was  being  destroyed  by  the  German  blitzkrieg,  its 
army  with  its  outmoded  cavalry  and  inept  strategy  ground  into  the  mud 
by  Nazi  panzer  divisions,  its  cities  pulverized  by  Stukas.  It  was  a 
horrifying  nightmare  of  total  war.  And  to  add  to  the  madness,  on 
November  30th,  mighty  Russia  Invaded  tiny  Finland.  It  seemed  certain 
now,  with  the  four  great  powers  of  Europe  involved  in  war,  that  the 
Armageddon  for  European  civilization  that  had,  since  World  War  I, 
been  predicted  as  the  end  result  of  any  future  European  war  was  a 
predictable  certainty. 

At  the  time  the  story  was  published  most  American  radicals  and 
liberals  were  actively  urging  more  positive  action  by  the  government 
in  opposing  fascist  aggression,  and  giving  greater  aid  to  the  Allies; 
the  anti-war,  neutralist  movement  was  at  its  peak,  particularly  amongst 
students. 

The  point  at  issue  with  “Final  Blackout”  narrowed  down  to  this: 
was  it  communist  propaganda,  or  was  it  fascist  propaganda?  Was  it 
pro- war,  or  was  it  anti-war?  It  was  none  of  these,  basically,  but 
depending  upon  one’s  political  leanings,  which  in  those  days,  and  in 
certain  circles  tended  to  the  extremes,  the  battle  lines  were  drawn  and 
charges  of  “communist”  and  “fascist”  flew  back  and  forth  for  months. 
Despite  the  political  significance  read  into  “Final  Blackout”  by  partisans 
of  the  Left  or  Right,  Hubbard  maintains  that  it  was  apolitical  in  intent, 
and  merely  an  attempt  on  his  part  to  anticipate  a  future— grim  as  it 
could  be — based  on  the  most  pessimistic  interpretation  of  the  evidence 
at  hand  and  the  best  experts  of  the  day.  The  fact  that  his  future  failed, 
in  the  main,  to  materialize  doesn’t  at  all  lessen  the  merit  of  “Final 
Blackout”  as  an  outstanding  work  of  science  fiction.  And  who  knows? 
The  future  he  erronously  predicted  for  World  War  H  looks  like  a  fair 
bet  for  a  possible  future  to  World  War  IH. 

There  were  three  novelettes  this  month.  “Admiral’s  Inspection”  by 
Malcolm  Jameson,  “Reincarnate”  by  Lester  del  Rey,  and  “Repetition” 
by  A.  E.  van  Vo^.  The  Jameson  story  was  the  first  of  the  popular 
“Bullard  of  the  Space  Patrol”  series  and  introduces  Bullard  as  a  young 
lieutenant,  newly  arrived  on  the  star  class  cruiser  Pollux,  confronted 
with  the  problems  of  an  Admiral’s  Inspection  which  would  result  in 
him  being  upranked  to  commander  by  the  end  of  the  story.  “Reincar¬ 
nate”  was  an  excellent  tale  about  the  victim  of  an  atomic  pile  explosion 
who  is  saved  by  having  his  brain  and  spinal  cord  incorporated  into  a 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


metal  contraption  which  turns  him  into  a  human- robot.  Perhaps  it 
wasn’t  an  entirely  original  plot,  but  del  Rey’s  detailed  accounting  of 
the  problems  involved,  in  what  amounted  to  learning  to  live  all  over 
again  elevated  it  above  the  average.  Van  Vogt’s  third  story  was  a 
disappointment  compared  to  his  first  two,  but  still  managed  to  be  a 
better  than  average  thriller  of  two  men  stranded  on  Europa,  one  of 
Jupiter’s  moons,  with  one  of  them  bent  on  murdering  the  other. 

May  brought  back  for  a  brief  moment  one  of  the  truly  legendary 
names  in  science  fiction,  Philip  Francis  Nowlan.  Phil  Nowlan,  as 
most  fans  know,  was  the  creator  of  Buck  Rogers  who,  as  Anthony 
Rogers,  first  appeared  in  two  novelettes  in  Amazing  Stories  in  1928 
and  1929:  ‘Armageddon  2419”  (August,  1928),  and  ‘The  Air- Lords  of 
Han"  (March,  1929).  For  ten  years  (except  for  two  stories,  “The  On¬ 
slaught  From  Venus”  Science  Wonder  Stories,  September,  1929,  written 
under  the  pseudonym  of  Frank  Phillips,  and  “The  Time  Jumpers” 
Amazing  Stories,  February,  1934)  Nowlan  had  been  devoting  his  time 
to  writing  the  Buck  Rogers  cartoon  strip  and  had  at  last  returned 
to  the  legitimate  science  fiction  field  with  a  two-part  short  novel  in 
Fantastic  Adventures,  “The  Prince  of  Mars  Returns”  (February- March, 
1940).  His  20,000  word  novelette  for  May,  “Space  Guard,”  had  been 
planned  as  the  first  story  in  a  series,  but  Nowlan  died  suddenly  of  a 
heart  attack  shortly  before  the  first  story  appeared  and  the  series 
died  aborning.  Unfortunately,  the  story  didn’t  rise  to  its  advance 
notices,  being  a  less  than  Inspired  bit  of  space  opera  and  quite  disap¬ 
pointing  to  one  who  remembered  his  first  two  stories  for  the  fine, 
imaginative  works  they  were. 

The  best  complete  story  of  the  issue  was  Jack  Williamson’s  “Hind¬ 
sight.”  A  study  in  character,  it  told  of  the  redemption  of  a  renegade 
Earth  scientist  who  had  renounced  his  allegiance  to  Earth  and  joined 
forces  with  its  enemies,  achieving  a  degree  of  fame  and  fortune  in  the 
process,  only  to  realize  at  the  moment  of  truth  that  he  could  not  forget 
his  Earth  heritage.  Pushing  Williamson  for  top  honors  was  Simak 
with  his  “Rim  of  the  Deep,”  a  suspenseful  story  taking  place  almost 
entirely  beneath  the  surface  of  the  Venusian  sea. 

“The  Roads  Must  Roll,”  Heinlein’s  fifth  story  and  his  first  novelette, 
was  the  subject  of  a  fine  Rogers  cover  and  marked  the  midpoint  of  the 
year.  Heinlein’s  picture  of  rolling  roadways  in  the  last  quarter  of  this 
century  seemed  so  real  one  almost  expected  them  to  appear  within  a 
few  short  years.  With  a  high  degree  of  realism,  Heinlein  related  the 
attempted  seizure  of  control  over  the  roadways  by  the  Functionalists, 
a  party  based  on  the  theory  that  power  should  belong  to  those  whose 
job,  or  function,  was  the  most  indispensable  in  the  scheme  of  things . 
Because  of  the  importance  of  the  rolling  roads,  which  handled  virtually 
all  surface  movement  of  people  and  goods  in  the  country,  the  Function¬ 
alists,  working  through  the  technicians  and  operating  engineers  who 
worked  directly  on  the  roads,  attempted  to  take  over  the  roads  and 
thereby  obtain  political  control  of  California,  if  not  the  entire  country. 

“The  Testament  of  Akubii”  by  Norman  L.  Knight  was  a  short  story 


80 


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of  considerable  merit.  It  told  of  the  suicide  of  Akubii,  a  Martian,  in 
order  to  extend  a  dwindling  oxygen  supply  and  thus  save  the  life  of  his 
friend  Greenbough,  an  Earthling  and  his  sole  companion  on  the  space 
cruiser  Peregrine,  during  an  exploring  expedition  to  one  of  the  remote 
outposts  of  our  star  swarm. 

And  with  this,  the  June  issue,  “Final  Blackout”  concluded  and  took 
its  place  in  the  Science  Fiction  Hall  of  Fame. 

As  someone  pointed  out  years  ago,  July  seems  to  be  particularly 
favorable  to  Astounding  because  it  is  almost  always  a  better  than 
average  montiiT  July,  1940  stands  as  pretty  good  evidence  of  this. 
This  issue  contained  the  first  Installment  of  Norman  L.  Knight’s  two- 
part  serial  ‘Crisis  in  Utopia,®  illustrated  by  a  striking  Rogers  cover; 
Heinleln’s  “Coventry,”  the  sequel  to  “If  This  Goes  On...”;  “Dark  Mis¬ 
sion”  by  Lester  del  Hey,  and  the  first  of  the  Kilkenny  cat  series,  “The 
Idealist”  by  Kurt  von  Rachen  (a  pseudonym  of  L.  Ron  Hubbard). 

“Crisis  in  Utopia”  was  laid  in  the  same  milieu  as  Knight’s  earlier 
novel,  “Frontiers  of  the  Unknown”  in  1937,  his  first  science  fiction 
story.  For  some  reason,  “Crisis  in  Utopia”  was  a  vastly  imderrated 
story  and  never  really  achieved  the  recognition  it  so  rightly  deserves . 
For  that  matter,  Norman  L.  Knight  himself  is  one  of  the  most  un¬ 
deservedly  forgotten  writers  of  the  late  thirties  and  early  forties. 
Although  his  output  was  small,  ten  stories  in  six  years,  they  were 
almost  all  of  a  uniformly  respectable  quality,  well  plotted,  excellently 
written.  “Crisis  in  Utopia”  was  a  carefully  worked  out  picture  of  the 
future  development  of  the  undersea  resources  of  the  Earth,  with  a 
lovely  problem  Involved  in  the  aiiificlal,  controlled  development  of  a 
mutated  type  of  man  capable  of  breathing  either  air  or  water,  and  the 
impact  of  this  mutation  on  normal  man. 

“If  This  Goes  On...”  ended  at  the  point  where  the  Prophet  Incarnate 
was  defeated  by  the  rebellion  of  the  Cabal  and  the  long  years  of  op¬ 
pression  under  the  dictatorship  of  the  religious  cult  of  the  Prophets 
finally  ended.  “Coventry”  takes  up  the  story  about  twenty-five  years 
later  when  civil  liberties,  the  right  of  privacy,  and  respect  for  the 
individual  have  become  facts  of  life.  However,  it  is  recognized  that 
selfish,  anti-social  tendencies  and  behavior  can’t  be  completely  elimi¬ 
nated  as  long  as  man  is  a  free  agent;  so,  rather  than  executing  or  im¬ 
prisoning  the  anti-social  he  is  sent  beyond  the  barrier  (an  Impenetrable 
force  field)  into  Coventry  where  he  can  work  out  his  own  individual 
destiny  as  best  he  can. 

In  ‘The  Idealist,”  Hubbard  set  up  an  explosive  situation  by  confining 
two  mutually  anta^nistic  groups  of  revolutionaries,  condemned  by  the 
provisional  revolutionary  government  of  Earth  as  coim^- revolution¬ 
aries,  to  a  space  ship  en  route  to  the  system  of  Sirius.  Detached  from 
the  two  groups,  but  also  exiled  for  his  revolutionary  activities,  is 
former  Air  Force  Colonel  Steve  Gailbraith,  the  “Idealist”  of  the  title. 

Lester  del  Rey’s  “Dark  Mission”  was  a  grim  little  tale  about  a  man 
from  Mars  who  makes  the  first  Journey  to  Earth  in  an  effort  to  obtain 
medical  aid  for  his  dying  race.  In  the  end  he  commits  suicide  after 


A  REQXnEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  81 

destroying  Earth’s  first  rocket  ship  when  he  realizes  that  Earth’s 
medical  knowledge  is  not  advanced  enough  to  save  Mars,  and  that  con¬ 
tact  between  the  inhabitants  of  the  two  planets  would  lead  to  the  death 
of  man  on  Earth  as  well  as  on  the  already  d3ring  Mars. 

One  of  Rogers’  most  beautiful  rocket  ship  covers  set  off  the  August 
issue  and  illustrated  “The  Stars  Look  Down,”  by  Lester  del  Rey.  This 
was  another  of  del  Rey’s  quietly  competent  probings  of  characters  in 
conflict  and  the  problems  besetting  the  pioneers  of  space  flight. 

The  most  memorable  story  in  the  issue,  however,  was  another  mon¬ 
ster  story  by  A.  E.  van  Vogt,  “The  Vault  of  the  Beast.”  Although  a 
monster  story,  it  was  not  part  of  the  “Beagle”  series  and  the  monster 
was  not  in  the  truest  sense  of  the  word  a  monster,  but  a  robot.  The 
robot  had  been  designed  by  its  creators,  supremely  evil  beings  in¬ 
habiting  another  universe  and  time  from  ours,  to  assume  the  shape  and 
character  of  anything,  organic  or  inorganic,  it  came  in  contact  with  or 
proximate  to.  Its  mission  was  to  make  its  way  to  Earth  and  there 
seek  out  the  greatest  mathematician  in  the  Solar  system.  Upon  finding 
this  individual,  it  was  to  get  him  someway,  somehow,  to  Mars  where  it 
was  to  force  him  to  solve  the  time  lock  set  in  the  vault  of  ultimate 
metal  which  the  Martians  eons  before  had  devised  to  imprison  the 
“Beast”  which  had  Inadvertently  dropped  in  on  the  Martians  from  his 
own  universe.  This  “Beast”  was,  of  course,  one  of  the  race  of  beings 
who  had  designed  the  robot.  The  Tower  of  the  Beast,  as  the  vault  was 
called,  was  fifteen  hundred  feet  in  diameter  and  one  mile  high.  The 
entire  top  was  a  door  geared  to  a  time  lock  which  was  integrated  along 
alineof“ieis”  to  the  ultimate  prime  number.  This  was  a  tremendous 
story  despite  the  issue  taken  by  a  number  of  fans  with  van  Vogt’s  math. 

September,  1940  was  one  of  the  best  single  issues  in  the  history  of 
AatouiKiing.  Witness:  The  first  installment  of  that  superb  classic, 
“Sian,”  by  A.  E.  van  Vogt;  “Blowups  Happen,”  by  Robert  A.  Heinlein; 
Isaac  Asimov’s  second  story  for  Astounding,  “Homo  Sol”;  “The  Kil¬ 
kenny  Cats,”  by  Kurt  von  Rachen,  and  “Quietus,”  by  Ross  Rocklynne. 
In  addition  to  all  this,  there  was  a  striking  cover  by  Rogers,  an  astro¬ 
nomical  painting  depicting  an  Einstein  Eclipse,  and  some  very  fine  in¬ 
terior  illustrations  by  Charles  Schneeman. 

“Sian”  is  a  superman  story. ..but  with  a  difference.  The  superman 
story  is  one  of  the  hardest  to  write  convincingly  and  the  number  of 
really  good  siq>erman  stories  can  be  coimted  on  the  fingers  of  one 
hand.  One  of  the  first  to  come  readily  to  mind  is  The  Hampdenshire 
Wonder,  by  J.  D.  Beresford,  the  novel  that  inspired  Olaf  Stapledon  to 
write  his  great  superman  novel.  Odd  John.  Another  early  entry  in  the 
field  was  Philip  Wylie’s  Gladiator.  The  other  outstanding  s\J5>erman 
novels  aU  come  from  the  pulp  magazine  field:  Stanley  G.  Welnbaum’s 
“The  New  Adam,”  from  Amazing  Stories,  “But  Without  Homs,”  by 
Norvell  W.  Page,  from  Unknown,  Frank  M.  Robinson’s  “The  Power,” 
from  Bluebook  (appearing  almost  simultaneously  with  the  hard  cover 
version  from  Lippincott),  and,  of  course,  “Sian.” 

The  biggest  hurdle  to  writing  a  successful  superman  story,  and  the 


82 


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one  that  almost  Invariably  trips  up  even  the  best  writers,  is  for  the 
human  author  to  tell  the  story  of  the  superman.  He  can’t.  It’s  a  con¬ 
tradiction  in  terms,  as  Campbell  pointed  out  in  the  July  Astounding. 
Campbell  further  said:  “To  give  the  philosophy  and  motivation  of  a 
being  completely  superior  is  by  basic  definition  impossible.  A  point 
on  which  siqpermen  stories  fail,  leaving  the  reader  with  a  vague  sense 
of  imreality  and  dissatisfaction.” 

Van  Vogt,  however,  very  neatly  sidestepped  this  contradiction.  He 
told  his  story  of  his  race  of  supermen,  theSlans,  from  the  viewpoint  of 
a  young  Sian  isolated  from  the  age  of  nine  from  his  fellows  who  is 
forced  to  survive  in  a  hostile  world  where  his  superhuman  powers, 
undeveloped  and  not  fully  realized,  serve  at  first  as  a  handicap,  for 
they  mark  him  as  a  Sian— fair  game  for  any  human  who  discovers  his 
true  Identity.  Among  other  things  that  distinguish  Slans  from  their 
homo  sapiens  brothers  is  their  most  unique  feature,  the  tiny  golden 
tendrils  intertwined  with  their  hair  which  serve  primarily  as  a  tele¬ 
pathic  agent. 

The  story  of  Jommy  Cross,  the  nine-year-old  Sian  who  escapes  from 
a  blood-lusting  mob  which  murders  his  mother  before  his  eyes,  is 
rescued  by  the  old  crone.  Granny,  who  exploits  his  Sian  powers  to  help 
her  in  shoplifting,  his  development  as  a  Sian,  his  search  for  other 
Slans  and  the  enigmatic  tendrilless  Slans,  and  his  eventual  triumph, 
was  a  sensation  from  the  very  first  page.  So  sensational  was  it  in  the 
handling  of  the  superman  theme  that  it  rated  the  rare  NOVA  designation. 
Campbell  got  so  carried  away  Avith  the  story  that  he  declared  in  the 
blurb  for  the  first  Installment  that  “Sian”  was  the  first  serial  to  rate 
the  NOVA  symbol— unless  Campbell  doesn’t  consider  a  two-part  novel 
a  serial  this  honor  rightly  belongs  to  Heinlein’s  “H  This  Goes  On...,” 
which  appeared  in  the  February  and  March  issues  of  this  year.  First 
NOVA  serial  or  not,  this  was  imquestionably  the  outstanding  story  of 
1940. 

“B1owaq)s  Happen”  was  another  demonstration  of  Heinlein’s  skill  in 
presenting  beautifully  realistic  and,  on  the  whole,  remarkably  accurate 
forecasts  of  the  fairly  Immediate  future.  This  one  concerned  the 
adverse  psychological  effects  on  the  men  tending  the  most  dangerous 
machine  in  the  world;  an  atomic  power  plant.  “The  Kilkenny  Cats” 
was  the  second  in  the  series  which  took  its  name  from  this  story  (“The 
Idealist”  was  the  first),  and  told  of  Colonel  Steve  Gailbralth’s  maneu- 
verings  of  his  two  antagonistic  groups  of  revolutionaries  into  a  wary 
truce  for  their  mutual  good  after  they  reach  their  planet  of  exile  cir¬ 
cling  the  sun  Sirius. 

Ross  Rocklynne’s  “Quietus”  is  another  story  I  like  to  believe  I  was 
instrumental  in  getting  included  in  Adventures  in  Time  and  Space.  At 
any  rate  I  championed  it  vigorously  enough.  It  is  a  near  perfect  story, 
one  that  never  fails  to  move  me  even  after  numerous  rereadings. 
The  story  opens  quietly  and  then  moves  inexorably  with  mounting  ten¬ 
sion  to  its  logically  tragic  ending.  Briefly,  it  relates  how  two  gentle 
birdlike  creatures  from  another  planet  bring  their  ship  to  a  nearly 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


83 


dead  Earth,  and  there  discover  the  last  remaining  bits  of  life  still 
existing  there.  After  a  series  of  observations  of  the  seemingly  dead 
planet  they  come  upon  two  creatures  involved  in  what  appears  to  them 
to  be  a  death  struggle.  One  of  the  creatures  is  a  slightly  repellent, 
hairless,  bifurcated  beast;  the  other  they  identify  as  a  fellow  bird- 
being.  The  agonizing  dilemma  confronting  the  two  observers  is  which 
one  of  the  two  antagonists  to  aid.  Which  is  the  intelligent  being  deserv¬ 
ing  of  their  lethal  assistance,  which  the  animal?  Needless  to  say,  the 
one  is  a  man,  the  last  of  his  race;  the  other  his  pet,  but  foul-tempered 
talking  crow.  And  this  evidence  of  apparent  intelligence  on  the  part  of 
the  crow,  as  well  as  the  marked  resemblance  to  themselves,  determines 
their  tragic  decision. 

Asimov’s  “Homo  Sol”  concerned  the  problem  confronting  the  Galactic 
Federation  relating  to  the  admission  thereto  of  the  planet  Earth  of  Sol 
which  had  just  developed  interstellar  travel.  The  problem  was  that 
Homo  Sol  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  federation  and  gave  disturb¬ 
ing  evidence  of  such  inventiveness  that  they  would  in  all  likelihood  be 
the  dominant  species  in  the  galaxy  in  a  couple  of  hundred  years.  How 
to  outwit  the  Earthmen  and  maneuver  them  into  the  federation  as 
peaceful  and  cooperative  members  of  galactic  civilization? 

The  October  issue  featured  the  second  installment  of  “Sian”  on  the 
cover  by  Rogers,  which  story  was  also  the  lead  feature  in  the  issue. 
In  every  respect  this  was  another  outstanding  number,  with  all  the 
stories  much  better  than  average,  and  two  of  them  outstanding,  with 
one  of  the  two  a  recognized  classic. 

The  classic  story  was,  of  course,  Harry  Bates’  “Farewell  to  the 
Master.”  This  was  the  story  that  served  as  the  inspiration  for  one  of 
the  better  science  fiction  movies  to  come  out  of  Hollywood,  The  Day 
the  Earth  Stood  Still.  This  story  of  the  huge  unmovli^  robot,  Gnut,  and 
his  godlike  "master*’  Klaatu  was  another  masterpiece  from  the  former 
editor  of  Astoiinding,  and  by  all  odds  the  best  of  his  sparse  output. 

The  second  outstanding  story  was  Theodore  Sturgeon’s  “Butyl  and 
the  Breather,”  the  hilarious  sequel  to  Sturgeon’s  first  science  fiction 
story,  “The  Ether  Breather.”  In  “Butyl  and  the  Breather”  the  harassed 
television  network,  in  an  effort  to  combat  the  disastrous  effect  the 
Ether  Breather  has  had  on  normal  transmission,  enlists  the  aid  of 
an  inventor  who  has  developed  a  means  whereby  he  is  able  to  translate 
odors  into  radio  frequencies  and  thus  transmit  them  through  the  ether. 
The  assortment  of  noxious  smells  directed  at  the  Breather  will,  they 
hope,  have  a  salutary  effect  in  driving  the  Breather  from  their  particu¬ 
lar  segment  of  the  ether.  A  very  funny  story  perfectly  Illustrated  by 
Edd  Cartier. 

The  balance  of  the  issue  was  made  up  of  short  stories.  Malcolm 
Jameson  was  back  with  the  second  story  in  the  “Bullard  of  the  Space 
Patrol”  series  begun  with  “Admiral’s  Inspection*  in  ^ril,  “White 
Mutiny.”  Nat  Schachner  was  present  with  “Rimaway  Cargo,”  and  L. 
Sprague  de  Camp  with  “The  Warrior  Race.” 

November  seemed  to  be  somewhat  of  a  letdown  after  the  high  level 


84 


ALVA  ROGERS 


maintained  over  the  last  few  months.  Of  course,  ‘Sian*  continued  with¬ 
out  letup  in  tension  and  excitement,  but  other  than  that  the  rest  of  the 
contents  were  merely  good;  not  a  real  classic  in  the  lot. 

Johnny  Black,  de  Camp’s  educated  black  bear,  made  his  final  ap¬ 
pearance  in ‘The  Exalted,”  a  moderately  funny  story  wherein  Professor 
Ira  Methuen,  Johnny  Black’s  mentor,  develops  a  peculiar  form  of  in¬ 
sanity  which  led  to  some  most  unexpected  happenings.  L.  Ron  Hubbard, 
writing  under  the  name  of  Rene  La  Fayette,  gave  us  “One  Was  Stubborn,” 
which  dealt  with  the  deceptive  nature  of  the  universe  ;cogito,  ergo  sum. 
And  Vic  Phillips  had  the  cover  story,  ‘Salvage,”  a  fairly  routine  yam 
about  salvaging  wrecked  space  ships  on  various  planets. 

On  page  160  of  this  issue  there  appeared  an  announcement  that  to 
this  day  when  I  see  it  or  think  about  it  almost  makes  me  want  to  weep. 
Campbell  announced  that  for  the  first  time  in  Astounding’s  history,  the 
magazine  was  offering  the  original  oil  paintings  used  on  its  covers  for 
sale.  The  covers  offered  were  from  the  October,  1933  issue  to  the 
February,  1935issue— seventeen  of  some  of  the  best  of  Howard  Brown’s 
paintings  1  The  price,  ten  dollars,  limit  one  to  a  customer— first  come 
first  served. 

“Sian”  came  to  its  smashing  climax  in  the  December  issue,  and  with 
one  of  the  first  examples  of  what  was  to  almost  become  a  trademark  of 
future  van  Vogt  epics— the  one  sentence,  or  at  the  most  one  paragraph 
ending  of  a  completely  unexpected  nature  that  usually  required  the 
reader  to  completely  revise  his  concept  of  the  meaning  of  the  story. 

Robert  Willey  (a  pseudonym  of  Willy  Ley),  in  his  novelette  “Fog” 
painted  a  picture  of  a  Communist  revolution  in  the  United  States  of  the 
fifties,  a  United  States  that  had  ridden  out  the  war  as  a  neutral  and 
then  suffered  a  major  depression  at  the  end  of  the  fighting  in  the  fifties. 
His  thesis  was  that  the  average  innocent  bystander  during  a  revolution 
observes  the  events  transpiring  as  though  through  a  fog,  inadequately 
Informed  as  to  what’s  going  on  and  that,  in  order  for  the  revolution  to 
succeed,  tight  communication  must  be  maintained  between  all  points  of 
revolt.  As  a  story,  it  wasn’t  bad;  as  prophecy,  well... 

P.  Schuyler  Miller  won  the  cover  with  his  “Old  Man  Mulligan,”  one 
of  his  best  and  most  enjoyable  stories. 

And  so  the  tenth  anniversary  year  of  Astounding  ends  in  a  most 
satisfactory  fashion.  By  any  standards  this  had  been  a  notable  year. 
“K  This  Goes  On...,”  “Final  Blackout,”  ‘Crisis  in  Utopia,”  and  above 
all,  “Sian,”  would  have  made  it  so.  But  the  year  was  memorable  not 
alone  for  its  serials,  but  for  the  many  excellent  novelettes  and  the 
abundance  of  fine  short  stories  that  backed  them  up. 

There  were  naturally  some  doubts  as  to  whether  or  not  Campbell 
and  Astomiding  could  maintain  the  pace  set  during  the  year  just  con- 
cluded.  But  more  immediately,  what  sort  of  serial  would  follow  the 
fabulous  “Sian,”  how  would  it  compare?  Well,  the  novel  scheduled  to 
begin  in  the  January,  1941  issue  looked  promising ...  something  by  a 
new  author,  Anson  MacDonald,  and  called  “Sixth  Column.” 


CHAPTER  VII 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE;  1941 


By  the  time  1940  drew  to  a  close  the  Golden  Age  of  science 
fiction  was  already  upon  us.  This  memorable,  and  to 
some  almost  legendary  period  would  last  for  several  years 
before  the  inevitable  decline  would  gradually  set  in.  Most 
fans,  for  purely  personal  reasons,  have  their  own  “Golden 
Years"  (for  me,  it  is  the  1934-35  period),  but  for  the  science  fiction 
genre  the  forties  (particularly  the  war  years)  will  always  be  the  “Golden 
Age.”  And  Astounding  was  undoubtedly  the  most  significant  element  of 
the  Golden  Age,  providing  leadership  to  the  field  and  giving  it  the  lustre 
that  made  it  truly  golden. 

John  W.  Campbell,  Jr.  is,  of  course,  the  man  responsible  for  the 
magazine’s  preeminence  during  this  era.  He  early  had  definite  ideas 
as  to  the  direction  he  felt  science  fiction  should  take,  but  it  wasn’t 
until  he  became  editor  of  Astounding  that  he  was  in  a  position  to  put 
some  of  those  ideas  into  motion.  He  diverted  Astounding  from  the 
course  it  had  been  pursuing  and  guided  it  into  relatively  new  and  un¬ 
explored  channels;  discovered  and  developed  new  and  exciting  writers 
and  encouraged  the  better  older  writers  to  update  their  viewpoints. 
Generally  he  aimed  his  magazine  at  a  more  adult  audience  than  in  the 
past.  Because  of  Astounding’s  position  in  the  field  most  of  the  other 
magazines  were  perforce  compelled  to  follow,  although  at  a  considera¬ 
ble  distance  for  most  of  them.  Campbell  extended  the  horizons  of 
science  fiction,  gave  it  a  status  in  literature  it  had  never  enjoyed  be¬ 
fore,  and  raised  it  to  a  new  level  of  maturity.  At  the  same  time  he 
never  lost  sight  of  the  importance  of  the  story.  The  primary  purpose 
of  a  science  fiction  magazine,  after  all,  is  to  provide  entertainment — 
not  sugar  coated  science  lessons  nor  exercises  in  literary  brilliance. 
Although  reasonably  sound  science  and  writing  skill  are  essential  to  a 
good  science  fiction  story,  these  elements  standing  alone  do  not  make 
a  memorable  or  classic  science  fiction  story— the  story  is  what  re- 


85 


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mains  in  one’s  memory  long  after  everything  else  about  it  has  been 
forgotten.  During  the  forties,  Astounding,  with  Campbell  at  the  helm, 
was  a  golden  argosy  overflowing  with  great,  classic  stories ;  stories 
that  will  endure  in  one’s  memory  as  long  as  one  retains  any  shred  of 
a  Sense  of  Wonder.  And  because  of  this  deluge  of  great  stories  from 
the  pages  of  Campbell’s  Astounding  during  this  era,  he  deserves  to  go 
down  in  the  history  of  science  fiction  as  one  of  its  greatest  single 
contributors— and  perhaps  its  greatest. 

The  Golden  Age  was,  from  a  fan’s  viewpoint,  a  time  of  great  and 
memorable  stories,  but  of  more  general  significance,  it  was  the  period 
of  science  fiction’s  greatest  growth,  its  reaching  toward  a  fuller  ma¬ 
turity  (still  not  yet  achieved),  and  its  growing  interest  in,  and  more 
serious  examination  of,  man’s  relationship  to  man  and  to  an  increas- 
ii^ly  more  complex,  inhumanly  technological  and  hostile  universe, 

“Sixth  Column,”  a  three-part  novel  by  a  new  author,  Anson  Mac¬ 
Donald,  started  the  new  year  and  laid  to  rest  any  fears  there  may  have 
been  as  to  the  quality  of  the  serial  that  would  follow  the  incomparable 
“Sian.”  This  was  an  exciting  and  realistic  account  of  the  overthrow  o; 
a  conquering  PanAsian  Horde  by  a  small  band  of  dedicated  Americar 
scientists,  led  by  Major  Whitey  Ardmore  of  the  regular  U.S.  Army, 
and  using  a  phony  religious  cult  as  a  cover  for  their  “sixth  column.” 
The  similarity  to  Robert  Heinlein’s  “If  This  Goes  On...,”  both  as  to 
plot  and  style,  was  marked  and  no  one  was  particularly  surprised  when 
it  became  general  knowledge  that  MacDonald  was  in  fact  Heinlein. 
However,  there  seemed  no  apparent  reason  for  using  a  pseudonym  on 
this  story,  but  just  why  he  did  was  not  to  be  known  until  May. 

“The  Mechanical  Mice,”  by  Maurice  G.  Hugi  (a  real  person,  but  in 
this  case  a  pseudonym  of  Eric  Frank  Russell),  was  an  intriguii^  tale 
of  time  paradoxes,  an  invention  that  had  no  apparent  function,  and  tiny 
metal  robots  that  scurried  around  pilf erii^  watches . 

Kurt  Von  Rachen  was  back  with  another  of  his  “Kilkenny  Cats” 
stories,  “The  Traitor.”  In  this  one,  ex-colonel  Steve  Gailbraith  in  his 
continuing  struggle  to  maintain  a  reasonable  degree  of  cooperation 
between  his  two  antagonistic  groups  (and  to  save  the  entire  colony  from 
certain  death  from  the  green  fever)  seemingly  turns  traitor  and  arranges 
with  the  Dictator  of  Earth,  Fagar,  to  destroy  the  colony  on  Sereon,  the 
planet  of  Sirius  they  had  been  exiled  to.  In  the  end  his  “traitorous” 
act  brings  the  two  groups  closer  together,  and  in  addition  he  single- 
handedly  captures  a  warship  of  the  Earth’s  space  fleet  and  the  Kilkenny 
cats  are  on  their  roundabout  way  back  to  Earth. 

Nelson  S.  Bond,  E.  A.  Grosser,  and  Harry  Walton  rounded  out  the 
issue  with  short  stories  of  no  great  significance  and  Rogers  had  a 
beautiful  cover  illustrating  “Sixth  Column.” 

Nelson  S.  Bond’s  “Magic  City,”  the  cover  story  for  February,  related 
how,  ln3485  AJ).,aprimitive,  matriarchal  American  society  took  the 
first  hesitant  steps  on  the  long  climb  back  to  civilization.  The  magic 
city  of  the  title  was  Loalnyawk,  the  feared  city  known  as  the  City  of 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


87 


Death  to  which  the  Priestess 
Meg,  Mother  of  the  Clan  of 
Jinnia,  and  her  mate,  Daiv, 
journey  in  an  effort  to  placate 
the  God  Death  but  where  they 
find  instead  the  knowledge 
which  will  eventually  enable 
man  to  regain  the  greatness 
he  once  had,  many  long  cen¬ 
turies  before. 

“—And  He  Built  A  Crooked 
House — ”  by  Robert  A.  Hein- 
lein  was  a  satirically  amusing 
tale  of  an  eager  beaver  archi¬ 
tect  in  Los  Angeles  who  de¬ 
signs  and  builds  a  house  in 
the  form  of  an  unfolded  tes- 
seract.  The  whole  thing  be¬ 
comes  quite  confusing  and 
demoralizing  when  the  archi¬ 
tect,  Quintus  Teal,  and  his 
clients  discover  the  house 
has  been  jarred  by  an  earth¬ 
quake  into  its  normal  four 
dimensional  folded-up  form. 
Although  the  story  was  told 
for  laughs,  still  Heinlein’s 
logical  arguments  defending 
the  feasibility  of  his  tesseract 
house  were  quite  formidable. 

The  second  installment  of 
“Sixth  Column*  unfolded  the 
details  of  the  new  religion  of 
the  god  Mota  and  its  use  as  a 
cover  for  the  organization  of 
a  military  underground.  The 


February,  1941;  “Sixth  Column,”  by 
Anson  MacDonald.  Illustration  by 
Charles  Schneeman. 


tempo  of  the  story  increased  considerably;  a  most  satisfying  novel. 


so  far. 


De  Camp  contributed  a  slight,  and  mildly  amusing  tale  of  time  para¬ 
doxes  in  “The  Best  Laid  Schemes”;  P.  Schuyler  Miller  had  a  disappoint¬ 
ing  novelette  of  thud  and  blunder  and  monsters  in  “Trouble  on  Tantalus,” 
and  Theodore  Sturgeon  examined  the  anomaly  of  crewmen  on  com¬ 
pletely  automated  space  ships  in  a  short  story,  “Completely  Automatic.” 

This  was  a  mildly  disappointing  issue  except  for  the  pieces  by 
Heinlein  and  the  quietly  colorful  cover  by  Rogers. 

Heinlein  was  back  again  in  March  with  a  powerful  novelette  which 
inspired  one  of  Hubert  Rogers’  most  stunning  covers  of  the  period. 
Rogers’  painting  of  two  steel  blue  space  ships  hovering  over  the  Moon’s 


ALVA  ROGERS 


surface  with  the  Earth  and  the  Milky  Way  in  the  background  served  as 
a  marvelous  illustrative  complement  to  Heinlein’s  grim  picture  of  ex¬ 
ploitation  and  development  of  Venus,  “Logic  of  Empire.”  In  many  ways 
this  is  one  of  Heinlein’s  better  stories.  Although  not  as  spectacular 
as  some  of  his  others,  it  still  had  the  requisite  amount  of  action,  sus¬ 
pense,  and  color.  But  this  was  more  than  a  simple  action  story.  As 
the  title  implied,  this  was  an  examination  of  the  brutal  measures 
which  are  supposedly  justified  by  the  logic  governing  the  expansion  of 
an  empire.  Colonial  slavery,  in  the  form  of  contract,  or  indentured 
labor,  and  the  exploitation  of  the  native  inhabitants  is  almost  invariably 
the  result  of  imperial  expansion;  just  as  invariable  is  the  ultimate  re¬ 
bellion  of  the  “enslaved”  against  their  distant  colonial  governors. 

At  the  end  of  the  story  Campbell  appended  a  footnote  drawing  the 
reader’s  attention  to  the  fact  that  all  of  Heinlein’s  stories  so  far  pub¬ 
lished  were  based  on  a  common  proposed  future  history  of  the  world 
with  emphasis  on  the  history  of  America.  “Logic  of  Empire”  takes 
place  shortly  after  2000  A.D.  and  fifty  or  so  years  before  “If  This  Goes 
On...”  In  the  latter  story  mention  was  frequently  made  of  the  First 
Prophet,  the  man  who  set  up  the  harsh  theocratic  dictatorship  that 
governed  America  at  the  time  of  that  story.  On  the  last  page  of  “Logic 
of  Empire”  a  reference  was  made  casxially  to  “a  rabble-rousing  polit¬ 
ical  preacher  like  this  fellow  Nehemiah  Scudder.”  Nehemiah  Scudder 
was  to  become  the  First  Prophet. 

Except  for  the  concluding  installment  of  “Sixth  Column”  which 
brought  this  excellent  serial  to  a  satisfying  end,  the  only  other  story 
of  any  note  was  Theodore  Sturgeon’s  “Poker  Face.”  A  member  of  a 
poker  party  demonstrates  some  remarkable  and  alarming  abilities  in 
his  handling  of  the  cards,  and  then  proceeds  to  explain  his  talents  by 
announcing  that  he  is  from  thirty-five  thousand  years  in  the  future  and 
explains  why  he  is  here  and  now  working  as  an  obscure  accoimtant. 
It  ends  with  a  neat,  if  maybe  a  little  too  pat,  O.  Henry  twist,  and  was 
in  every  respect  an  excellent  story. 

Rogers’  cover  for  the  April  issue  was  a  beauty,  a  wonderfully  com¬ 
posed  and  colorfully  depicted  scene  of  two  men  fighting  with  dueling 
sticks  and  illustrated  L.  Sprague  de  Camp’s  two-part  serial,  “The 
Stolen  Dormouse.” 

De  Camp  had  more  or  less  slighted  Astounding  during  the  past  sev¬ 
eral  months,  devoting  his  best  efforts  to  Unknown.  His  contributions 
to  Astounding  in  the  recent  past  had  all  been  short  stories  obviously 
composed  off  the  top  of  his  head,  but  “The  Stolen  Dormouse”  was  a 
more  serious  and  weU  thought  out  piece,  even  if  it  was  generously 
spiced  with  de  Camp’s  own  brand  of  logical  insanity,  and  it  was  also 
his  longest  Astounding  story  as  yet  and  for  several  years  to  come. 

America  a  few  hundred  years  from  now,  according  to  de  Camp,  has 
developed  a  rigid  feudal  system  based  on  the  great  industrial  houses 
and  with  an  immutably  stratified  society  of  a  pseudo-nobility  with  titles 
drawn  from  the  business  world.  Dueling  between  rival  houses  is  the 
order  of  the  day  with  individuals  wielding  their  “dueling  sticks”  in 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


ALVA  ROGERS 


defense  of  the  honor  of  their  house.  The  Dornaice  of  the  title  are  people 
who  are  tired  of  it  all  and  subject  themselves  to  suspended  animation 
for  a  couple  of  centuries  or  so.  When  one  of  them  becomes  a  kidnap 
victim  in  the  course  of  a  feud  between  the  rival  houses  of  Crosley  and 
Stromberg,  well . . . 

This  issue  contained  one  of  the  greatshortclassics  of  science  fiction, 
“Microcosmic  God”  by  Theodore  Sturgeon.  Since  “Ether  Breather” 
was  first  published  in  1939,  Sturgeon  had  become  an  author  of  the 
first  rank  in  both  Astounding  and  Untoown:  “Ether  Breather”  and 
“Butyl  and  the  Breather,”  ‘Poker  Face,”  “Completely  Automatic,”  and 
“Microcosmic  God,”  all  in  Astounding.  And  for  Unknown  he  had  author¬ 
ed  that  classic  of  horror,  “It.”  In  addition  there  was  also  the  delightful 
“Shottle  Bop,”  “Cargo,”  “He  Shuttles,”  “Derm  Fool,”  and  “A  God  in  a 
Garden.”  Each  and  every  one  a  fine  story,  with  “It”  and  “Microcosmic 
God”  undoubtedly  classics.  “Microcosmic  God,”  with  its  believable 
and  human  scientist,  Kidder,  and  his  artificially  created  race  of  micro¬ 
scopic  Neoterics,  was  Sturgeon’s  most  ambitious  work  to  this  date; 
mature,  with  good  characterization,  superb  plot,  and  a  fine  picture  of 
the  effect  of  intolerable  outside  pressures  on  a  closely  integrated 
society,  where  the  society  (the  Neoterics)  is  forced  to  meet  impending 
racial  annihilation  with  inventiveness  and  ingenuity. 

Asimov’s  positronic  robots  debuted  in  this  issue  with  “Reason,”  a 
satirical  short  story  showii^  how  a  rigid  adherence  to  the  laws  of 
logic  can,  against  ^  logic,  still  bring  about  a  desired  end. 

Malcolm  Jameson,  in  “Slacker’s  Paradise,”  (another  in  the  “Bullard” 
series),  took  a  true  incident  in  U.S.  Naval  annals  from  World  War  I 
and  transferred  it  to  space.  A  very  junior  officer  commanding  a  small 
space  patrol  boat,  disgusted  because  his  command  is  not  in  the  war 
zone,  is  suddenly  jolted  with  the  problem  of  a  gigantic  enemy  battleship 
approaching  his  tiny  craft  and  offering  voluntary  surrender  without  a 
shot  being  fired  by  either  side. 

A.  E.  van  Vogt  was  back,  marking  time  with  a  short  story,  “Not  the 
First.”  This  concerned  the  first  interstellar  space  flight  at  greater 
than  light  speeds  and  showed  the  consequences  of  violating  the  Lorenz- 
Fitzgerald  contraction  theory.  As  the  title  indicates,  this  was  not  the 
first  trip  this  ship  had  taken,  nor  was  it  to  be  the  last,  apparently,  as 
the  story  ends  by  seguing  into  the  opening  paragraph. 

Harry  Walton  had  a  space  tale  featuring  a  van-Vo^ian  type  alien  in 
“The  Scrambler,”  and  P.  Schuyler  Miller  was  present  with  “Bird 
Walk,”  neither  of  which  quite  came  off. 

When  all  the  controversies  concerning  Heinlein’s  social  and  political 
philosophies  have  been  finally  exhausted,  when  all  the  probings  into 
the  hidden  significances  of  his  stories  have  been  made,  one  inescapable 
fact  will  emerge  from  all  this  and  remain  constant  :Heinlein  is  a  master 
stor3rteller  almost  without  peer  in  the  science  fiction  world.  This  May 
issue  is  one  of  the  prime  witnesses  to  that  fact. 

“Universe”  is  one  of  the  great  milestones  along  the  road  science 
fiction  has  traveled  since  its  modern  beginnings ;  as  significant  to  the 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


91 


field  as  was  “The  Skylark  of  Space"  or  “Twilight.” 

Heinlein’s  story  of  the  giant  starship,  the  first  to  be  launched  from 
Earth  and  bound  for  Centaurus,  which  is  racked  by  mutiny  and  con¬ 
tinues  unguided  for  generation  after  generation  through  space,  becom¬ 
ing  in  time  a  total  and  complete  universe  to  its  inhabitants,  was  a 
breathtaking  concept  when  it  first  saw  print.  The  character  (or  char¬ 
acters?)  of  Joe- Jim  Gregory,  the  two-headed  Mutie  who  opens  the 
way  to  the  discovery  and  understanding  of  the  greater  universe  sur¬ 
rounding  the  ship,  is  one  of  the  most  unforgettable  in  all  science  fiction, 
a  truly  inspired  creation.  And  the  teleology  supporting  the  concept  the 
ship’s  inhabitants  had  of  their  universe  is  beautifully  and  logically 
presented.  This  was  in  every  respect  a  magnificent  story,  and  one 
that  has  grown  in  stature  over  the  years. 

(Heinlein  had  been  anticipated  somewhat  a  few  months  earlier  by 
Don  Wilcox  with  “The  Voyage  That  Lasted  600  Years”  in  the  October, 
1940  Amazing  Stories,  but  it’s  doubtful  that  Heinlein  read  the  story 
prior  to  writing  “Universe”;  in  any  case,  the  Wilcox  3ram  is  hardly 
remembered  by  anyone,  whereas  Heinlein’s,  once  read,  is  never  for¬ 
gotten.) 

Heinlein  (in  the  guise  of  Anson  MacDonald)  appeared  in  a  more  im¬ 
mediately  prophetic  vein  with  his  second  novelette  in  this  issue,  the 
highly  pidjlicized  “Solution  Unsatisfactory.”  This  story  of  the  use  of  a 
poisonous  dust,  a  byproduct  of  atomic  energy  (with  a  remarkable  simi¬ 
larity  to  modern  fallout)  in  a  future  war,  against  which  there  is  no 
satisfactory  defense,  was  a  chillingly  accurate  forecast  of  Things  to 
Come.  In  addition  to  which,  it  was  an  excellent  story,  although  not  to 
be  compared  to  “Universe”  for  sheer  story  value. 

Again  Heinlein;  One  of  the  notable  features  of  the  year  was  the 
publication  in  this  issue  of  Heinlein’s  outline  of  his  Future  History. 
The  reason  for  Heinlein’s  use  of  the  MacDonald  pseudonym  was  finally 
disclosed.  All  the  stories  tied  into  the  Future  History  were  by  Robert 
A.  Heinlein,  those  outside  the  framework  of  the  History  were  bylined 
with  one  or  another  of  his  pseudonyms.  The  idea  of  a  working  outline 
of  background  events  to  be  used  from  story  to  story  was  not,  of  course, 
entirely  new  (Neil  R.  Jones,  several  years  earlier,  had  a  plan  of  the 
future  into  which  he  fitted  most  of  his  stories;  Manly  Wade  Wellman 
and  Eando  Binder  also  used  connected  backgrounds  for  a  number  of 
their  stories),  but  all  of  these  were  mere  skeletal  outlines  compared 
to  Heinlein’s  comprehensive  future. 

Eric  Frank  Russell  had  been  a  very  infrequent  contributor  to 
Astounding  since  his  first  story,  “The  Saga  of  Pelican  West”  was  print- 
ed  in  February,  1937.  His  next  important  story  had  been  “Seeker  of 
Tomorrow,”  a  time  travel  story  written  in  collaboration  with  Leslie 
T.  Johnson  which  was  good  enough  to  rate  one  of  Brown’s  most  im¬ 
pressive  covers  of  1937;  this  was  in  July.  Except  for  three  short 
stories  in  1937  and  1938,  his  next  story  printed  in  America  was  the 
previously  mentioned,  “Sinister  Barrier.”  His  last  story  was  a  short 
appearing  in  Captain  Future  in  1940.  All  this  is  by  way  of  leading  up 


92 


ALVA  ROGERS 


to  the  fact  that  his  excellent  “Jay  Score”  was  presented  in  this  issue. 
Who  or  what  is  Jay  Score?  “Jay  Score”  was  a  story— also  a  character, 
a  huge  and  immensely  powerful  spaceman,  with  muscles  and  nerves  of 
steel,  who  dramatically  stakes  his  claim  to  membership  in  the  human 
race  during  a  searing  crisis  in  space.  J.20  is  a  robot.  This  was  the 
first  in  a  quite  good  series  of  stories  which  included  the  better  known 
“Mechanistria”  and  “Symbiotica,”  which  appeared  later. 

“Liar!,”  the  second  in  Asimov’s  robot  series,  concerned  a  robot 
with  the  accidental  and  disturbing  ability  to  read  minds.  Inasmuch  as 
robots  are  prohibited  from  knowingly  InfUctii^  harm  on  a  human,  this 
led  to  an  insoluble  dilemma;  how  could  the  robot  answer  a  direct 
question  when  he  could  see  in  the  questioner’s  subconscious  that  a 
truthful  answer  would  hurt  or  damage  the  human’s  ego  or  feelings? 
Dr.  Susan  Calvin,  the  robopsychologist  who  figures  in  so  many  of  the 
stories,  made  her  first  appearance  in  this  one,  as  did  the  fundamental 
laws  of  robotics  in  a  passing  reference. 

In  time,  Asimov’s  Three  Laws  of  Robotics  came  to  be  accepted  by 
many  other  writers,  either  in  toto  or  with  minor  modifications,  and 
used  by  them  in  their  own  stories.  It  has  become  almost  a  dead 
certainty  that  if  and  when  robots  (as  science -fictionists  visualize  them) 
become  an  actuality  they  will  have  Asimov’s  Three  Laws  programmed 
into  their  “brains.” 

THE  THREE  LAWS  OF  ROBOTICS 

1.  A  robot  may  not  injure  a  human  being,  or  through  in¬ 
action,  allow  a  human  being  to  come  to  harm. 

2.  A  robot  must  obey  the  orders  given  it  by  hiunan  beings 
except  where  such  orders  would  conflict  with  the  First 
Law. 

3.  A  robot  must  protect  its  own  existence  as  long  as  such 
protection  does  not  conflict  with  the  First  or  Second 
Law. 

Ross  Rocklynne  led  off  a  rather  mediocre  June  issue  with  a  time 
travel  puzzle  involving  six  people,  a  skeleton  with  a  gold  ring  on  its 
finger  and  a  million  years  of  time  in  “Time  Wants  a  Skeleton.” 

Nat  Schachner  was  back  after  a  short  absence  with  a  novelette,  the 
first  of  his  space  lawyer  series,  “Old  Fireball.”  Suppose  two  men 
each  own  an  asteroid  rich  in  minerals  and  suppose  these  two  asteroids 
eventually  collide  and  end  up  as  one,  which  of  the  two  men  would  be 
the  owner  of  the  new,  larger  asteroid? 

“Artnan  Process”  by  Theodore  Sturgeon  told  of  a  couple  of  Earth- 
men’s  efforts  to  learn  the  secret  of  the  Artnan  process  of  extracting 
U-235  from  U-237.  Artna,  a  planet  of  Procyon,  had  established  a 
plant  on  Mars  for  extracting  U-235  and  because  of  their  cheap  and 
secret  process  of  providing  power  controlled  the  economies  of  both 
Mars  and  Earth.  Also  figuring  in  the  story  were  a  bimch  of  drimken 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


93 


M  artians  ; 
Martians  who 
get  beautiful¬ 
ly  drunk  on 
Coke. 

Harry  Bates 
finally  ended 
his  associa¬ 
tion  with  As¬ 
tounding  in 
this  issue 
with  his  no^ 
ette,  “A  Mat- 
terof  Speed,* 
a  great  disap¬ 
pointment.  It 
woiild  be  nice 
to  be  able  to 
say  that  his 
last  story  for 
Astound  ing 
was  also  his 
best.  But  that, 
unfortunately, 
is  j\ist  not  pos¬ 
sible.  This 
story  of  dicta¬ 
torship,  in¬ 
visibility  and 
rebellion  was 
a  pale  shadow 
of  its  three 
illustrious 
predecessors 
“A  Matter  of 
Size,"  “Alas, 
All  Thinking,* 


and  “Farewell  June,  1941 ;  “Artnan  Process”  illustration  by  Schneeman. 

to  the  Master.* 

July,  that  magic  month  for  Astounding,  again  presented  us  with  a 
memorable  issue.  The  history  of  the  Howard  Families  as  recorded 
in  “Methuselah’s  Children”  by  that  eminent  historian  of  the  future, 
Robert  Heinlein,  would  probably  be  on  any  list  of  all  time  favorites, 
and  would  more  than  likely  be  in  the  first  ten.  hi  this  superb  novel 
we  meet  Zack  Barstow,  the  nominal  leader  of  the  beleaguered  Families, 
the  remarkable  Lazarus  Long  who  figures  so  decisively  in  their  ulti¬ 
mate  survival,  Andrew  Jackson  “Slipstick*  Libby  who  was  labeled  a 
“misfit*  by  his  contemporaries  in  the  CCC  of  an  earlier  generation. 


94 


ALVA  ROGERS 


and  all  the  other  members  of  the  all  but  immortal  Families  who  are 
forced  by  the  fear,  jealousy,  and  hatred  of  short-lived  man  to  flee 
Earth  for  an  uncertain  future  in  the  unexplored  vastness  of  interstellar 
space. 

The  Families  had  their  beginning  with  the  setting  up  of  the  Howard 
Foundation  in  1874  with  the  avowed  purpose  of  encouraging  births 
among  persons  of  soimd  American  stock.  The  unavowed  purpose  of 
the  Foundation  was  to  bring  about  an  extension  of  the  normal  life  span 
by  judicious  selection  of  couples  with  histories  of  long  lived  ancestors, 
and  thus  to  gradually  encourage,  with  each  succeeding  generation, 
longer  and  longer  life  spans.  By  the  time  of  “Methuselah’s  Children” 
(2125  A.D.)  the  average  life  span  of  a  member  of  the  Howard  Families 
was  well  over  one  hundred  years,  and  increasii^  with  each  generation. 
The  Families  had  maintained  a  masquerade  of  normal  short  life  as  a 
matter  of  policy  and  protection,  but  by  2125  this  masquerade  was 
pierced  and  mankind  clamored  for  the  secret  of  immortality;  a  secret 
that  didn’t,  in  the  sense  of  instant  immortality,  exist.  The  apparent 
refusal  of  the  Howard  Families  to  share  their  secret,  their  selfish 
insistence  on  keeping  the  secret  within  the  Howard  Families,  brought 
about  a  violent  reaction  of  jealousy  and  mass  fear  for  racial  survival 
and  in  the  more  intelligent  and  sensitive,  a  debilitating  inferiority 
complex. 

Not  only  was  this  an  enthralling  story,  full  of  adventure,  conflict, 
romance,  and  enough  casually  tossed-off  ideas  to  serve  as  the  basis 
for  a  half-dozen  other  stories,  but  on  another  level  it  was  a  story  that 
probed  the  problem  of  man’s  frailty  and  Insecurity  when  confronted 
with  the  inexplicable  and  the  different  in  his  fellow  man. 

This  is  still  a  great  classic  science  fiction  novel,  for  the  llkeof  which 
one  would  have  searched  in  vain  through  the  pages  of  science  fiction 
magazines  a  mere  handful  of  years  preceding  it. 

Alfred  Hester’s  first  story  for  Astoxmding,  “The  Probable  Man,” 
appeared  in  this  issue.  This  also  was  one  of  the  rash  of  stories  deal¬ 
ing  with  the  more  paradoxical  problems  inherent  in  time  travel  that 
were  popular  during  this  period.  It  was  quite  good,  though, particularly 
in  the  brief  glimpse  Bester  gave  us  ofafuture  America  vdiere  Naziism 
reigned  as  Swasts  and  were  opposed  by  an  undergroxmd  (literally)  of 
the  descendents  of  native  Americans  known  as  Readers,  so-called 
because  of  their  devotion  to  books. 

“The  Right  to  Buy  Weapons  is  the  Right  to  be  Free.”  This  imper¬ 
ishable  slogan  of  The  Weapon  Shops  first  saw  print  in  van  Vogt’s  short 
story  “The  Seesaw”  in  this  issue.  The  first  glimpse  of  the  war  between 
the  Weapon  Shops  and  the  Isher  Empire  was  briefly  given  us  in  this 
story.  The  seesaw  referred  to  the  pendulum  swings  throi^h  time  made 
by  the  energy  charged  hero  who  eventually  built  up  such  a  charge  of 
energy  that  in  the  inconceivably  distant  past  his  body  reached  the 
critical  stage  and  thus  was  instrumental  in  the  formation  of  the  uni¬ 
verse.  Nothing  picayune  about  van  Vogt! 

The  remaining  story  of  note  was  Anson  MacDonald’s  “We  Also  Walk 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  95 

Dogs,”  a  delightful  title  referring  to  the  General  Services  Company 
which  would  do  anything,  short  of  murder,  for  a  price. 

August  was  distinguished  by  one  of  Rogers’  finest  covers, a  beautiful 
painting  of  steel  blue  space  ships  nestling  in  their  launching  pads, 
which  illustrated  “Jurisdiction”  by  Nat  Schachner.  This  was  another 
of  the  Space  Lawyer  series,  and  as  in  “Old  Fireball,”  was  concerned 
with  legal  flummery  involving  mining  claims  in  the  Asteroid  Belt. 

In  the  second  installment  of  “Methuselah’s  Children”  we  find  the 
Howard  Families  launched  on  their  hegira  into  space  in  the  New 
Frontiers,  the  sister  ship  to  the  vessel  that  figured  so  prominently  in 
the  earlier  “Universe,”  the  Vanguard.  Lazarus  Long,  with  the  assist¬ 
ance  of  Slayton  Ford,  the  head  of  the  government  who  throws  in  his  lot 
with  the  Families,  commandeers  the  New  Frontiers.  And  in  a  scene 
reminiscent  of  When  Worlds  Collide,  the  Families  embark  on  the  ship 
and  depart  this  Solar  system. 

Theodore  Sturgeon’s  “Biddiver”  was  about  an  automobile  that  was 
also  a  space  ship;  a  harmless  drunk  gets  into  it  by  mistake  and  ends 
up  in  space,  and  after  passing  unprotected  through  the  Heaviside  layer 
becomes  strangely  transformed;  a  space  pirate  called  The  Fang;  and 
two  of  the  most  unsavory  and  unloving  brothers  in  science  fiction. 
Sturgeon  was  rapidly  building  himself  an  enviable  reputation  of  almost 
never  turning  out  a  bad  story. 

“Backlash,”  a  short  story  by  Jack  Williamson,  told  of  the  efforts  of 
an  expatriated  Russian  scientist  and  his  American  assistant  to  alter 
the  present  Eurasian  dominated  world  by  effecting  the  death  of  Levin, 
the  mustachioed  dictator  at  a  crucial  point  in  the  past. 

September  was  one  of  the  best  all  around  issues  of  the  year,  with 
almost  every  item  in  it  a  gem.  A  single  issue  is  usually  notable  for 
one  story  or  serial  installment,  or  at  best  two  or  three  stories — the 
issue  wherein  every  story  rates  high  is  a  rarity.  September  was  one 
of  those  rarities. 

To  begin  with,  Rogers’  cover  is  one  of  the  best  of  the  year.  One  of 
the  strongest  characteristics  of  Rogers  was  his  ability  to  compose  a 
highly  dramatic  and  colorful  picture  soundly  without  being  crudely 
sensational.  The  cover  illustrated  beautifully  Isaac  Asimov’s  memora¬ 
ble  classic,  “Nightfall.”  This  story,  which  was  inspired  by  Emerson’s 
lines:  “If  the  stars  should  appear  one  night  in  a  thousand  years,  how 
would  men  believe  and  adore,  and  preserve  for  many  generations  the 
remembrance  of  the  city  of  God!,”  was  one  of  the  most  thoughtful  and 
meaningful  stories  in  science  fiction  up  to  that  time.  Lagash  circles 
the  sun  Alpha,  one  of  a  complex  of  six  suns  shining  on  the  planet. 
Every  two  thousand  and  fifty  years  the  suns  are  so  positioned  that  only 
the  weakest.  Beta,  remains  in  the  heavens.  At  this  time  Lagash’s 
hitherto  invisible  planetary  companion  eclipses  Beta  and  total  darkness 
descends  on  Lagash  for  a  period  of  four  hours.  How  would  man,  con¬ 
ditioned  since  the  beginning  of  time  to  continual  and  intense  light, 
react  to  sudden  total  darkness— and  the  accompanying  appearance  of 
myriads  of  stars,  never  before  seen  or  ever  known  to  exist? 


ALVA  ROGERS 


Alfred  Bester  was  back  with  his  second  story,  the  justly  famous 
“Adam  and  No  Eve,”  the  story  of  Stephen  Crane  who  destroys  all  life 
on  Earth  in  a  tragic  accident,  and  then  discovers,  as  he  lies  dying  on 
the  edge  of  the  sea,  the  last  man  on  Earth,  that  he  will  be  the  First 
Cause  of  a  new  cycle  of  life  on  Earth.  Bester  did  a  beautiful  job  on 
this  story,  developing  it  mostly  through  the  ravings  and  hallucinations 
of  a  dyi^  man. 

Raymond  F.  Jones,  who  was  to  write  many  fine  stories  during  the 
Golden  Age,  made  his  debut  in  this  issue  with  one  of  his  best  short 
stories,  “The  Test  of  the  Gods.”  Three  men  crash-land  in  the  Venusian 
swamps  where  they  are  rescued  by  Igoroes,  a  race  of  intelligent  but 
primitive  reptiles.  As  insurance  for  good  treatment  they  pass  them¬ 
selves  off  as  gods,  which  seems  like  a  good  idea  for  a  while  imtil  the 
Igoroes,  not  unreasonably,  ask  them  to  prove  their  godhood  by  passing 
The  Test  of  the  Gods.  This  seems  fair  enough. ..until  the  nature  of  the 
Test  is  disclosed. 

One  of  the  best  articles  during  this  period  was  “The  Sea  King’s 
Armored  Division,”  a  two-part  article  beginning  this  month.  This 
article  examined  a  subject  and  a  period  of  history  that  de  Camp  has 
always  had  an  abiding  interest  in;  the  science  of  the  Hellenistic  Age. 

Heinlein,  in  the  guise  of  Caleb  Saunders,  contributed  a  time  travel 
story  of  better  than  average  quality  called  “Elsewhere”— not  too 
original,  but  well-written  at  any  rate.  Norman  L.  Knight  examined 
another  facet  of  time  in  “Short  Circuited  Probability.”  M.  Krulfeld 
had  an  excellent  short  succinctly  titled  “Mission”  which  told  of  an 
Eurasian  invasion  of  the  western  hemisphere  and  the  immediate  need 
to  sabotage  the  latest  development  in  computers  made  by  the  Eurasians, 
which  computer  gave  them  a  split  second  advantage  over  the  Americans. 
It’s  interesting  to  note,  in  passing,  the  number  of  times  “Eurasian”- 
American  wars  form  the  basis  for  stories  at  a  time  when  the  principal 
enemy  of  western  civilization  was  supposed  to  be  Nazi  barbarism. 
Campbell  gave  us  an  article  under  his  byline  called  “We’re  Not  All 
Human!”  which  examined  the  possibility  of  mutated  humans  already 
existing  amongst  us,  and  made  a  good  brief  for  the  development  of  a 
Sian  type  stq>erman  here  and  now. 

And  finally,  “Methuselah’s  Children”  came  home. 

October  was  another  great  issue.  “By  His  Bootstraps”  by  Anson 
MacDonald;  “Common  Sense”  by  Robert  Heinlein;  “Not  Final!”  by  Isaac 
Asimov;  “Two  Percent  Inspiration”  by  Theodore  Sturgeon,  and  the 
concluding  installment  of  L.  Sprague  de  Camp’s  article  “The  Sea 
King’s  Armored  Division,”  plus  another  fine  cover  by  Hubert  Rogers 
made  this  an  outstanding  month. 

Time  travel  has  been  one  of  the  standards  of  science  fiction  from 
the  time  of  Wells’  great  classic.  The  Time  Machine,  which  introduced 
most  of  the  basic  elements  of  the  theme.  There  have  been  a  nximber 
of  great  (if  not  classic)  time  travel  stories  written  in  the  intervening 
years — and  countless  potboilers.  MacDonald,  with  his  story  in  this 
issue,  wrote  what  many  consider  to  be  the  ultimate  In  paradoxical 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  97 

time  travel  stories .  “By  His  Bootstraps”  is  one  big  outrageous  paradox 
so  logically  presented  by  Heinlein  that  the  reader  is  left  bedazzled, 
bewildered,  and  almost  convinced,  but  nevertheless  delighted. 

“Common  Sense,”  the  sequel  to  “Universe,”  remained  unreprinted 
for  twenty-two  years.  Why  it  was  not  picked  up  by  one  of  the  editors 
of  the  countless  science  fiction  anthologies  that  appeared  in  the  late 
forties  and  all  through  the  fifties  in  both  hard  covers  and  paperback,  I 
know  not;  unless  they  felt  it  depended  too  much  on  “Universe”  for  full 
impact.  At  any  rate,  this  has  now  been  remedied.  In  1963,  Victor 
GoUancz,  Ltd.,  of  London,  published  a  slim  volume  of  160  pages  en¬ 
titled  Orphans  of  the  Sky  combining  these  two  great  novelettes  into  a 
short  novel  in  two  parts.  In  April,  1964,  G.  P.  Putnam’s  Sons,  of  New 
York  reissued  the  same  book.  After  much  too  long  a  time,  these  two 
great  stories  have  achieved  the  form  they  deserved  from  the  beginning; 
the  novel.  And  as  a  novel  the  whole  becomes  a  fine  modem  parable  of 
man’s  emergence  from  the  dark  ages  and  his  unquenchable  thirst  for 
knowledge. 

In  “Common  Sense”  the  events  leading  up  to,  and  the  results  of,  the 
mutiny  are  given  greater  scrutiny,  and  the  characters  rounded  out 
more  fully.  And  Joe-Jim  Gregory  has  his  moment  of  glory,  going 
down  fighting  for  something  he  believes  in,  but  really  doesn’t  quite 
understand— and  endures  as  one  of  the  great  characters  of  science 
fiction. 

“Two  Percent  Inspiration”  was  about  a  brilliant  Earth  scientist  who 
wasn’t  all  he  appeared  to  be;  an  eccentric  millionaire  Inventor- scientist 
who  read  the  pulp  adventures  of  Satan  Strong,  the  evil  scourge  of  the 
spaceways  (for  a  particular  reason!),  and  the  problem  confronting 
Martians  on  the  planet  Mercury;  Martians  don’t  sweat,  you  know. 

“Not  Final!”  by  Asimov  was  about  a  Jovian-Earth  war,  the  effect  of 
Jupiter’s  gravity  on  steel  hulled  space  ships  and  the  development  of  a 
force  field  substitute  for  steel.  Winston  K.  Marks  took  a  look  at  the 
unexpected  results  obtained  from  artificially  induced  immortality  given 
to  man  with  the  added  mental  block  against  self-destruction,  in  “Manic 
Perverse.”  And  de  Camp  concluded  his  examination  of  the  almost- 
Age  of  Science  during  the  Hellenistic  Age  to  make  October  a  very 
satisfying  issue. 

In  Uie  next  issue,  the  penultimate  chapter  of  the  Lensman  saga 
commenced  with  the  first  of  four  installments  of  “Second  Stage  Lens- 
men.”  Kinnison,  convinced  that  the  Boskonian  War  has  been  success¬ 
fully  concluded  with  his  destruction  of  the  home  planet  of  the  Eich, 
Jamevon,  in  the  Second  Galaxy,  which  is  believed  to  be  the  center  of 
the  Boskonian  culture  (as  related  in  the  concluding  chapters  of  “Gray 
Lensman”),  doffs  his  Lensman’s  Burden  and  makes  plans  for  marrying 
Clarrissa  MacDougall  but  he  is  suddenly  forced  to  re-examine  his 
thinking  by  a  direct  intercession  on  the  part  of  Mentor,  his  Arisian 
sponsor.  And  so  off  we  go  again  in  the  seemingly  endless  search  for 
the  true  nature  of  Boskone. 

Because  of  the  total  length  of  “Second  Stage  Lensmen”  (118,000 


ALVA  ROGERS 


words),  nearly  half  of  the  November  issue  was  taken  up  by  the  first 
installment  which,  of  course,  dominated  the  whole  issue.  The  only 
other  story  in  the  magazine  worth  mentioning  was  Nat  Schachner’s 
swan  song  in  Astounding,  “Beyond  All  Weapons.”  Schachner  told  of  a 
ruthless  world  dictatorship  and  its  eventual  overthrow  by  a  strange 
being  called  the  Master  who  had  arrived— messiah-like— purportedly 
from  Saturn  to  help  mankind  regain  its  lost  freedoms.  Schachner  was 
subsequently  missed;  he  had,  for  years,  been  such  an  integral  part  of 
Astounding  that  his  presence  was  almost  taken  for  granted.  One  of  the 
amazing  things  about  Schachner  is  that  during  all  the  time  he  was 
turning  out  science  fiction  with  one  hand  (and  being  derided  as  a  hack 
by  many  fans),  with  the  other  he  was  producing  his  highly  acclaimed 
biography  of  Aaron  Burr — and  later  of  Jefferson  and  Hamilton.  A 
most  remarkable  man,  Nathan  Schachner;  one  the  field  can  be  proud  of. 

Rogers’  cover  illustrating  “Second  Stage  Lensmen”  was  a  disappoint¬ 
ment  after  the  superb  cover  for  “Gray  Lensman.*  Again,  it  was  a 
portrait  of  Kimball  Kinnison,  clad  in  gray  and  stepping  forth  from  a 
space  ship.  But  the  face  looked  like  a  cross  between  Jack  Dempsey 
and  de  Camp’s  “Gnarly  Man”  (Unknown,  June,  1939)  or,  as  one  fan  said 
in  sorrow,  it  brought  to  mind  the  title  of  a  classic  fantasy  by  Max 
Brand,  “That  Receding  Brow”  (AIL Story  Weekly,  Febniary  15,  1919; 
Fantastic  Novels,  March,  1950) .  Except  for  the  face ,  however,  it  was 
a  fine  composition  with  drama  and  tension  In  every  line. 

The  December  issue  was  not  only  the  last  of  the  year,  it  was  the  last 
(apparently)  of  the  standard  pulp  size,  and  the  last  with  a  cover  price 
of  twenty  cents.  Campbell  announced  on  the  Editor’s  Page  that  with 
the  January,  1942  issue  the  magazine  was  going  large  size  with  a  drop 
in  page  coimt  to  128,  and  a  price  increase  to  twenty-five  cents.  This 
would  still,  Campbell  assured  us,  allow  for  half  again  as  many  words 
as  currently  appeared  in  the  160  page  issues .  This  was  supposed  to 
be  an  improvement,  give  added  dignity  to  the  magazine,  and  force  its 
removal  from  the  despised  pulp  sections  of  the  newsstands  to  the 
hallowed  area  of  the  slicks.  The  change  was  also  supposed  to  be  in 
response  to  the  plea  of  many  fans  over  the  years  for  Astotmdlng  to  go 
large  size.  The  large  size  format  had  almost  traditionally  come  to  be 
considered  the  ne  plus  ultra  for  science  fiction  magazines — since  the 
days,  of  course,  of  the  early  Amazings  and  Wonders. 

In  the  second  installment  of  “Second  Stage  Lensmen”  Clarrissa 
MacDougall  gets  special  training  which  enables  her  to  bypass  the 
usual  training  necessary  to  becoming  a  Lensman  and  emerges  a  full- 
fledged  Second  Stage  Lensman;  Kinnison  masquerades  as  Cartlff,  the 
jeweler  and  fence,  in  a  campaign  to  infiltrate  the  Boskonians  and  get  a 
line  on  their  prime  base;  Clarrissa— the  “Red  Lensman”— embarks 
upon  her  first  assignment  as  a  Lensman  to  the  matriarchy  dominated 
planet  of  Lyrane  n,  and  discovers  a  pocket  of  the  feared  Delgonian 
Overlords  operating  in  a  hidden  cavern,  and  we  meet  for  the  first  time 
the  dread  Tyrant  of  Thrale  and  the  Onlonians,  the  superiors  of  the  late 
and  unlamented  Eich. 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


December,  1941;  “Second  Stage  Lensman”  illustration  by  Rogers. 

1941  was  the  year  that  set  the  standards  against  which  all  the  follow¬ 
ing  years  of  the  Golden  Age  were  measured.  Never  again  would 
Astounding  run  such  a  high  concentration  of  classical  or  memorable 
stories  in  one  twelve -month  period.  Just  a  quick  reprise  of  1941  will 
show  what  I  mean,  and  also  help  to  bring  the  year  into  sharper  focus. 

First,  let’s  take  the  serials  published  during  the  year:  “Sixth 
Column,”  “The  Stolen  Dormouse,”  “Methuselah’s  Children,”  and  the 
first  two  installments  of  ‘Second  Stage  Lensmen.”  Two  by  Robert 
Heinlein,  one  by  L.  Sprague  de  Camp,  and  half  of  E.  E.  Smith’s  latest 
and  greatest  novel. 

Secondly,  the  better  novelettes:  “The  Mechanical  Mice,”  “Magic 
City,”  “Logic  of  Empire,”  “Microcosmic  God,”  “The  Mutineers,” 


100 


ALVA  ROGERS 


“Universe,"  “Solution  Unsatisfactory,”  “Artnan  Process,”  “The 
Probable  Man,”  “Biddiver,”  “Nightfall,”  “By  His  Bootstraps,”  “Com¬ 
mon  Sense,”  “Beyond  All  Weapons,”  by  such  authors  as  Heinlein, 
Asimov,  Russell,  Schachner,  Sturgeon,  Bester,  Bond,  and  Hubbard. 

Finally,  just  a  few  of  the  many  short  stories:  “And  He  Built  a 
Crooked  House,”  “Poker  Face,”  “The  Seesaw,”  “Reason,”  “Llarl,” 
“Not  the  First,”  “Slacker's  Paradise,”  “Jay  Score,”  “Adam  and  No 
Eve,”  “Backlash,”  “The  Test  of  the  Gods,”  “Not  Final!,”  “Elsewhere,” 
“Mission,”  “Two  Percent  Inspiration,”  and  “We  Also  Walk  Dogs,” 

If  ever  there  was  a  roll  call  of  fabulous  stories,  this  is  it — and  all 
from  one  year.  In  addition  to  the  stories  we  also  had  twelve  of  the 
best  covers  painted  by  Hubert  Rogers.  It  was  also  the  last  year  in 
which  Rogers’  covers  appeared  on  every  issue.  The  weakest  feature 
of  Astoimding  during  the  year  was  in  the  department  of  interior  illustra¬ 
tions!  There  was  not  enough  Schneeman  and  Rogers,  and  far  too  much 
Kramer;  the  most  abysmal  artist  (and  I  use  the  title  advisedly)  ever 
to  appear  in  a  science  fiction  magazine. 

Two  things  are  very  evident  in  this  summary:  Robert  A.  Heinlein 
dominated  the  year  completely,  and  van  Vogt  was  startlingly  con¬ 
spicuous  by  his  absence— “The  Seesaw”  and  “Not  the  First”  notwith¬ 
standing.  Never  before  or  since  has  the  field  seen  such  a  phenomenon 
as  Heinlein  who,  in  two  short  years,  and  with  a  relatively  small  number 
of  stories,  changed  the  face  of  science  fiction  for  all  time.  Other 
authors  have  exerted  profound  influences  on  science  fiction  in  the  past 
in  one  way  or  another:  E.  E.  Smith  freed  us  from  the  confining  limita¬ 
tions  of  the  solar  system  and  gave  us  the  entire  universe  to  play 
around  in;  Campbell  expanded  on  Smith  with  stories  dealing  with  vast 
concepts  and  inconceivable  power,  and  (as  Don  A.  Stuart)  combined 
science-fictional  ideas  with  elements  of  mood,  poetry,  and  imagery 
found  more  often  in  the  sister  field  of  fantasy.  And  finally,  Stanley  G. 
Weinbaum  endowed  us  with  alien  entities  that  were  tnily  alien.  These 
were  all  significant  contributions  to  the  genre,  and  certainly  contributed 
to  the  development  of  science  fiction  by  their  influence  on  succeeding 
writers.  But  Heinlein’s  influence  was  manifold  and  revolutionary.  He 
has  been  called  a  “Renaissance  Man”  in  the  narrow  sense  of  the  talents 
and  diversified  knowledge  he  brought  to  bear  on  his  chosen  field  of 
science  fiction.  Heinlein  combined  a  firm  grasp  of  practical  politics, 
sociology,  psychology  (both  individual  and  mob),  the  military,  semantics, 
the  various  physical  and  applied  sciences  (and  used  aU  of  them  as 
themes  or  key  ideas  in  hlsstories)  with  a  generally  liberal  humanitarian 
outlook  and  the  skill  and  discipline  of  a  fine  writer.  Seldom  did  he  let 
any  of  the  structural  elements  in  his  stories  obscure  his  main  purpose, 
the  telling  of  a  story  in  the  best  manner  possible.  Heinlein  had  his 
faults,  naturally,  but  they  were  so  niggling  compared  to  his  virtues  as 
a  writer  that  they  aren’t  germane  to  this  discussion. 

On  the  July  Fourth  weekend  of  1941,  the  3rd  World  Science  Fiction 
Convention  convened  in  Denver,  Colorado.  The  Guest  of  Honor  was 
Robert  Anson  Heinlein;  honored  after  only  two  years  as  a  writer  of 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  101 

science  fiction,  a  testimonial  to  the  tremendous  impression  he  had 
made  on  the  field. 

The  failure  of  van  Vogt  to  follow  up  his  sensational  “Sian"  with 
something  a  little  more  powerful  than  “Not  the  First”  and  “The  Seesaw" 
was  one  of  the  mysteries  of  the  year.  There  have,  of  course,  been 
instances  of  authors  who  have  shown  great  promise  with  a  few  stories 
and  then  ceased  to  exist  as  far  as  science  fiction  is  concerned,  but  van 
Vogt,  from  his  first  published  story,  ‘Black  Destroyer,"  which  was  so 
enthusiastically  received  by  the  readers,  to  the  tremendously  sen¬ 
sational  “Sian"  barely  a  year  later,  not  only  showed  great  promise,  he 
had  already  arrived.  It  could  only  be  hoped  that  something  better 
would  come  from  him  in  the  next  year. 

By  the  time  the  January,  1942  issue  of  the  new  large  Astounding 
would  appear  the  United  States  would  be  at  war,  and  things  would  never 
appear  quite  the  same  again. 


CHIPTER  VIII 


THE  "BEDSHEET"  ASTOUNDING:  1942-1943 


The  brief  era  of  the  “bedsheet”  Astounding  began  with  the 
January,  1942  issue,  to  the  joy  of  many  and  the  despair  of 
others.  The— roughly — 7  x  10  inch  pulp  size  was  the  ideal 
dimension  for  science  fiction  magazines.  The  large  size 
magazine  broke  up  that  wonderful  rank  of  yellow  and  black 
spines  that  made  one’s  collection  of  Street  &  Smith  Astoundings  so 
distinctive  on  the  shelf. 

To  be  honest,  the  new  format  was  impressive.  The  cover  painting 
(a  fine  Rogers)  was  the  same  size  as  on  earlier  issues  with  the  addition 
of  a  gray  border  surrounding  it  on  all  four  sides  with  the  logo  super¬ 
imposed  on  the  upper  portion  of  this  border. 

The  feature  story  for  January  was  Jack  Williamson’s  ‘Breakdown” 
which  dealt  with  the  disintegration  of  a  static  society  and  had  as  its 
leading  character  a  strong-arm  labor  boss.  This  was  an  entirely 
different  Williamson  from  the  author  of  “Legion  of  Space”  or  “The 
Legion  of  Time.”  Without  denigrating  his  earlier  classics  in  any  way, 
this  still  was  a  much  more  mature  and  sophisticated  story  than  his 
space  and  time  epics. 

That  indomitable  champion  of  civilization.  The  Gray  Lensman,  one 
of  the  entities  collectively  known  as  Star-A-Star,  the  nemesis  of  Bos- 
kone,  Kimball  Kinnison,  becomes  a  wheel  in  the  Thralian  system, 
eventually  becoming  the  Tyrant  of  Thrale— the  top  dog  (or  so  he  thought) 
of  Boskonel  And  thus  in  the  third  installment  of  “Second  Stage  Lens- 
men”  everything  seemed  to  be  coming  to  a  head,  and  the  conclusion  of 
the  long  drawn-out  Boskonian  war  appeared  to  be  nearly  over. 

The  greatest  of  all  feminine  writers  in  the  science  fiction  field,  C. 
L.  Moore,  was  back  in  February  after  a  much  too  long  absence  with 
her  first  cover  story  for  Astounding,  “There  Shall  be  Darkness.” 
This  novelette,  which  told  of  the  departure  of  the  Earth  legions  from 
Venus  was  an  extremely  evocative  and  moody  piece  in  the  great  Moore 


102 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


103 


104 


ALVA  ROGERS 


tradition.  A  marvelous  story. 

“Second  Stage  Lensmen”  came  to  a  climax  with  a  denouement  that 
rocked  this  writer  right  out  of  his  chair— as  it  must  have  many  others 
at  the  time.  Kinnison,  in  his  masquerade  as  a  Thralian,  had  connived 
and  killed  his  way  to  what  he  thought  was  the  top  of  the  Boskone  hier¬ 
archy,  becoming  in  fact  the  Tyrant  of  Thrale— only  to  discover  that  his 
Prime  Minister,  Fossten,  had  been  his  predecessor’s  superior.  In  the 
climactic  scene,  Kinnison  and  Fossten,  whose  true  identity  is  concealed 
by  a  zone  of  hypnosis,  wage  a  motionless  and  silent  battle  of  minds  as 
the  Gray  Lensman  implacably  bores  into  the  zone  and  through  the  mind 
shields  in  an  all  or  nothing  attempt  to  unmask  and  kill  the  true  evil 
genius  behind  Boskone.  At  last  Fossten’s  shield  gives  way  to  Kinni- 
son’s  greater  mind,  and  he  stands  revealed  to  Kinnison  as— an  Arisian  I 
Kinnison  is  understandably  shaken  by  this,  but  goes  on  to  kill  him. 
Mentor  gives  Kinnison  to  understand  that  the  beii^  known  as  Fossten 
was  a  renegade  Arisian,  really  quite  demented. 

This  seems  to  settle  once  and  for  all  the  Boskonians,  and  Kinnison 
settles  down  on  Klovia  in  the  Second  Galaxy,  becomes  Galactic  Coord¬ 
inator,  and  marries  his  Clarrissa.  The  suggestion  that  an  Arisian 
was  the  guiding  genius  behind  Boskone  seemed  to  be  a  logical  and  neat 
gimmick  for  winding  up  the  Lensman  Saga,  and  I  rather  Imagined  at 
the  time  that  that  was  the  way  Doc  Smith  originally  intended  it.  But 
more  on  this  subject  a  few  years  hence. 

Other  stories  in  this  issue  were  “Sorcerer  of  Rhiannon”  by  Leigh 
Brackett,  an  unimportant  but  enjoyable  story;  “Medusa”  by  Theodore 
Sturgeon,  a  story  that  just  missed,  about  a  being  of  planetary  size; 
"The  Rebels”  by  von  Rachen — the  Kilkenny  Cats  were  still  at  each 
other’s  throats  and  Colonel  Gailbraith  was  still  pulling  them  apart, 
and  Raymond  F,  Jones  had  some  pertinent  things  to  say  about  trans¬ 
portation  in  “Starting  Point,”  his  second  story  in  Astounding. 

A.  E.  van  Vogt,  who  had  produced  but  two  short  stories  in  1941,  was 
back  in  March  with  the  cover  novelette,  “Recruiting  Station.”  This 
story  was  by  a  new  van  Vogt,  intricately  plotted  and  somewhat  vast  in 
scope,  dealing  as  it  did  with  time  and  Interplanetary  war.  However,  it 
was  still  far  below  the  quality  of  “Sian.”  It  did,  however,  have  an  in¬ 
triguing  character  in  the  person  of  Dr.  Lell,  a  man  of  superior  talents, 
and  one  of  the  more  memorable  last  lines  in  science  fiction,  “Poor, 
unsuspecting  superman!” 

“Goldfish  Bowl”  by  Anson  MacDonald  was  a  near  perfect  story  con¬ 
cerning  the  mystery  of  two  water  spouts  in  the  south  Pacific— one 
rising  from  the  ocean  into  the  stratosphere  and  the  other  descending— 
and  the  warning  tattooed  on  the  body  of  a  dead  man  that  “creation  took 
eight  days.”  And  “Runaround”  by  Asimov  was  the  third  in  the  Robot 
series;  it  examined  the  problem  of  an  aberrated  robot  and  his  redemp¬ 
tion.  All  the  robot  stories  so  far  presented  by  Asimov  followed  the 
same  pattern  and  had  predictable  outcomes.  Take  a  situation  into 
which  a  highly  specialized  or  experimental  robot  is  introduced  to  per¬ 
form  a  specific  function,  then  have  it  develop  a  malfunction,  usually  of 


April,  1942;  “Co-Operate  or  Else,  ”  illustration  by  Charles  Schneeman. 

a  bizarre  nature,  and  then  work  desperately  to  discover  the  cause  and 
cure  before  all  hell  breaks  loose.  These  stories  were  saved  from  be¬ 
ing  formula  nothings  by  Asimov’s  writing  skill,  his  sense  of  humor  and 
his  truly  remarkable  concept  of  the  positronic  robot  and  its  impact  on 


106 


ALVA  ROGERS 


human  society. 

A  rather  startling  cover  by  Rogers  of  a  rocket  ship  landing  in  an 
open  glade  in  a  giant  redwood  forest  served  to  announce  the  appearance 
in  April  of  one  of  the  most  important  novels  of  the  year,  Anson  Mac¬ 
Donald’s  “Beyond  This  Horizon.”  In  this  novel  Helnlein  probed  the 
ramifications  of  state  imposed,  controlled,  and  manipulated  eugenics ; 
the  civilizing  influence  of  ritualized  handgun  dueling;  the  laws  of  proba¬ 
bility  as  they  apply  to  games  of  chance,  and  the  problems  of  a  “mongrel” 
man  transported  from  the  twentieth  century  to  the  eugenically  stabilized 
future.  A  thoroughly  readable  and  thought  provoking  novel,  enhanced 
by  marvelous  illustrations  by  Rogers. 

Van  Vogt  was  again  present  with  a  novelette,  and  an  excellent  one  it 
was,  too,  “Co-operate — or  Else.”  For  the  sake  of  simple  survival. 
Professor  Jamieson  must  convince  the  fearsome  Ezwal  of  the  neces¬ 
sity  for  cooperation  after  they  crash  land  on  the  primitive  planet  of 
Eristan  H,  and  of  the  greater  urgency  for  the  Ezwal  inhabitants  of 
Carson’s  Planet  to  cooperate  with  Earth  in  their  showdown  war  with 
the  slug-like  Rull.  The  Ezwal,  singly  and  collectively,  are  disinclined 
toward  cooperation  with  the  pimy  Earthman.  Ultimately,  Jamieson’s 
Ezwal  does  cooperate,  but  because  of  the  professor’s  philosophical 
arguments. 

For  the  third  month  in  a  row,  van  Vogt  was  present  with  a  novelette, 
with  another  cover  story  for  May,  “Asylum.”  This  is  one  of  van  Vogt’s 
finest  stories,  a  taut,  well  drawn  picture  of  vampirism  with  inter¬ 
stellar  ramifications.  Coiq}led  with  this  was  the  idea,  somewhat  akin 
to  the  thesis  advanced  by  Eric  Frank  Russell  in  “Sinister  Barrier” 
(i.e.,  that  we  are  property),  that  we  are  on  a  reservation,  isolated  from 
the  rest  of  interstellar  civilization  and  guarded  by  lower  grade  men¬ 
talities  known  as  the  Watchers  to  see  that  we  don’t  come  in  contact 
with  the  rest  of  the  universe  until  suchtimeaswe— and  they— are  ready. 

Alfred  Bester’s  excellent  novelette,  “Push  of  a  Finger,”  demonstrat¬ 
ed  the  inability  of  a  totally  static  society  to  change  enough  variables  to 
avoid  complete  destruction  in  the  far  future,  even  when  such  destruc¬ 
tion  is  proven  to  be  certain  and  final  unless  radical  action  is  taken. 
This  story,  as  well  as  “Asylum,”  was  beautifully  illustrated  by 
Schneeman. 

With  this  issue,  Isaac  Asimov  launched  his  monumental  “Foundation” 
series  with  the  appearance  of  the  initial  novelette  of  the  series,  “Founda¬ 
tion.”  After  tens  of  thousands  of  years  the  Galactic  Empire  had  spread 
to  millions  of  worlds  throughout  the  galaxy,  its  power  all  but  absolute, 
its  influence  all  pervading.  The  Empire,  however,  was  on  the  brink  of 
collapse  and,  with  the  impending  collapse,  the  universe  could  be  ex¬ 
pected  to  be  plunged  into  at  least  thirty  thousand  years  of  anarchism 
and  barbarism.  Hari  Seldon,  through  the  application  of  psycho-history 
which  enables  him  to  predict  the  future  course  of  history  by  the  in¬ 
terpretation  of  statistical  laws  as  derived  from  the  inconceivable  mass 
of  humanity,  foresees  this  imminent  fate  of  civilization  and  takes 
measures  to  insure  the  survival  of  civilization  and  knowledge  through 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  107 

the  long  dark  ages  ahead  and,  if  possible,  shorten  the  period  of  bar¬ 
barism.  He  does  this  by  establishing  two  Foundations  at  opposite  ends 
of  the  galaxy:  the  First  Foundation  of  the  Encyclopedists  at  Terminus, 
a  small  system  on  the  edge  of  the  galaxy,  the  Second  Foundation — 
hidden  even  from  the  First — at  “Star’s  End,”  at  the  “other  end  of  the 
galaxy.”  “Foundation”  introduced  the  basic  elements  of  the  plot  of  the 
series  and  recounted  the  successful  resolution  of  the  first  of  the 
critical  crises  predicted  by  Seldon  which  the  Foundation  must  sur¬ 
mount  in  order  to  carry  on  the  Seldon  Plan. 

There  will  be  more  about  the  “Foundation”  stories  later.  They  are 
some  of  the  greatest  science  fiction  ever  written,  with  a  Sense  of 
Wonder  in  the  underlying  concept  that  is  truly  out  of  this  world. 

The  cover  story  for  June  was  “Bridle  and  Saddle,”  by  Asimov,  the 
sequel  to  last  month’s  “Foundation.”  Thirty  years  after  the  first 
crisis  met  by  the  Foimdation,  the  second  arises  and  is  resolved  by  the 
astute  and  pragmatic  Mayor  of  Terminus,  Salvor  Hardin.  Where  the 
first  crisis  was  met  by  a  shrewd  manipulation  of  balance  of  power 
tactics  as  applied  to  the  menacing  powers  surrounding  the  relatively 
weak  Terminus  on  their  particular  segment  of  the  rim  of  the  galaxy, 
the  second  threat  from  these  powers  is  met  with  “spiritual”  force 
opposed  to  their  “temporal”  force. 

There  were  nine  stories  in  this  issue,  none  of  which  (except  for 
“Bridle  and  Saddle”)  made  any  lasting  Impression.  Not  even  Hal 
Clement’s  first  story,  “Proof.” 

July  sported  a  rather  unusual  cover  for  Astounding.  A  large  Ameri¬ 
can  flag  was  the  subject,  and  the  same  painting  appeared  on  most  mag¬ 
azines  for  this  month,  a  patriotic  gesture  by  the  magazine  publishers 
of  America. 

A.  E.  van  Vogt  led  off  with  “Secret  Unattainable”  which  was  about 
one  of  Hitler’s  secret  weapons  so  boobytrapped  by  one  of  its  inventors 
that  any  application  of  its  powers  by  Hitler  would  bring  about  rather 
catastrophic  results.  A  gimmicky  and  disappointing  story  after  his 
three  earlier  stories  this  year. 

The  best  story  in  the  issue  was  Clifford  Simak’s  “Tools”  which  was 
about  a  highly  intelligent  gas  found  hovering  over  radium  deposits  on 
Venus,  and  its  need  for  physical  tools  before  it  could  act  on  its  think¬ 
ing.  Simak  presented  at  the  same  time  a  rather  grim,  if  perhaps 
exaggerated,  glimpse  of  the  result  of  commercial  atomic  power  being 
under  absolute  control  of  private  capital. 

This  issue  served  to  introduce  both  a  new  author  and  a  new  theme  to 
science  fiction.  The  author  was  Will  Stewart,  and  the  theme  was  the 
problems  to  be  encountered  with  “seetee”  (contraterrene  matter)  and 
how  to  control  and  use  it.  WiU  Stewart  was,  of  course,  a  pseudonym 
of  Jack  Williamson,  a  fact  not  then  known.  “Collision  Orbit”  was  an 
excellent  novelette  which  related  the  efforts  of  old  Jim  Drake,  and  his 
partner  in  spatial  engineering,  Rob  McGee,  to  harness  the  incalculable 
power  of  the  seetee  asteroids  despite  the  bureaucratic  opposition  of 
the  government. 


108 


ALVA  ROGERS 


The  August  issue  brought  forcefully  home  to  the  fan  the  realities  of 
the  war,  insofar  as  it  directly  affected  science  fiction  and  particularly 
Astounding.  In  the  column  “In  Times  to  Come”  Campbell  intimated  just 
how  hard  Astounding  had  been  hit  by  the  war.  By  the  middle  of  1942, 
Astounding  had  lost  Robert  Heinlein  (and,  of  course,  Anson  MacDonald) 
and  L.  Ron  Hubbard  to  the  Navy,  Charles  Schneeman  to  the  Air  Force, 
and  Hubert  Rogers  to  the  Canadian  Army.  L.  Sprague  de  Camp  also 
went  into  the  Navy,  and  Isaac  Asimov  was  also  taken  up  by  the  war. 
In  one  way  or  another,  either  through  military  service  or  war  work, 
many  other  writers  were  either  completely  out  of  writing  for  the 
duration  or  seriously  limited  in  the  amount  of  time  they  could  devote 
to  writing  science  fiction. 

This  issue  saw  the  last  appearance  for  several  years  of  two  of  the 
men  who,  in  their  separate  fields,  were  most  closely  identified  with 
the  early  and  best  years  of  the  Golden  Age— Robert  Heinlein  (as  Anson 
MacDonald)  with  his  short  novel  “Waldo,”  and  Hubert  Rogers  with  his 
brilliant  cover  illustrating  it. 

Heinlein’s  novella  was  about  air  cars  that  wouldn’t  work,  and 
Pennsylvania  Dutch  hexes  that  apparently  did;  an  immensely  brilliant, 
physically  weak,  grossly  obese  and  unpleasant  character  named  Waldo 
F.  Jones,  who  set  out  to  solve  the  puzzle  of  the  non-functioning  air 
cars,  and  a  gadget  invented  by  Waldo  when  he  was  ten  years  old  which 
would  allow  for  remote  manipulation  by  mechanical  arms  and  hands  of 
the  most  delicate  nature.  Waldo,  himself,  bore  a  striking  similarity— 
at  least  as  to  physical  characteristics,  intelligence,  and  personality— 
to  Rex  Stout’s  famous  detective,  Nero  Wolfe.  However,  as  the  novel 
progressed  the  resemblance  lessened  until  Waldo  emerged  as  one  of 
the  more  unique  characters  in  science  fiction.  Everyone  knows,  of 
course,  that  the  term  “Waldo”  was  almost  immediately  adopted  by  the 
scientific  commimity  and  for  some  time  used  to  describe  similar 
gadgets  that  were  coming  into  Increasingly  greater  use  as  time  went  on. 

“Jackdaw,”  by  Ross  Rocklynne  told  of  the  discovery  of  Earth  (com¬ 
pletely  depopulated  except  for  one  man  in  an  airplane)  by  a  star- roving 
race  of  beings  whose  culture  was  incredibly  old,  and  whose  major 
pursuit  was  to  search  throughout  the  galaxy  for  problems  that  would 
occupy  their  Intellects  to  the  limit.  The  problem  posed  by  Earth  proved 
to  be  insoluble  in  the  end  because  the  Emonsos  were  a  logical  and 
kindly  race,  and  the  recent  inhabitants  of  Earth  indisputably  were 
neither.  This  story  was  on  the  same  general  theme  as  the  author’s 
shorter  and  much  better  “Quietus”  written  in  1940;  that  is,  the  obstacles 
one  culture  meets  in  an  attempt  to  understand  another  which  has  hither¬ 
to  not  been  known  to  exist,  which  is  completely  and  totally  alien  to 
anything  previously  encountered,  and  where  a  minimum  of  data  is 
obtainable.  Rocklynne  did  an  excellent  job  in  presenting  the  problem 
in  this  story,  but  he  d^  do  it  better,  and  with  a  greater  economy  of 
words,  in  “Quietus.” 

Hal  Clement’s  second  story,  “Impediment,”  was  a  carefully  thought 
out  account  of  the  landing  of  a  space  ship  near  the  Arctic  Circle  and 
its  discovery  by  one  man.  The  occupants  of  the  ship  are  large  moth- 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  109 

like  creatures  possessing  the  ability  of  telepathic  communication. 
Their  discovery  by  the  man,  Kirk,  gives  them  the  opportunity  of  study¬ 
ing  his  mind  patterns  and  eventually  communicating  with  him  and,  with 
his  mind  as  a  key,  other  men  as  well.  This  is  fine,  and  everjdhing 
progresses  beautifully  until  Kirk  discovers  the  true  purpose  of  their 
visit  to  Earth,  and  the  moth  creatures  discover  to  their  dismay  that 
there  is  an  impediment  to  their  plans,  that  the  mind  patterns  of  man 
are  as  distinct  and  various  as  are  his  fingerprints.  The  story  was 
interesting  on  an  intellectAial  level,  as  are  all  of  Clement’s  later  works, 
but  cold  emotionally. 

There  appeared  with  this  issue  a  new  author,  one  who  was  to  be  one 
of  the  leading  masters  of  the  Astounding  “style”  during  the  middle 
years  of  the  Golden  Age,  Lewis  Padgett,  the  greatest  of  Henry  Kuttner’s 
many  alter  egos,  with  a  short  story,  ‘Deadlock.”  (Padgett,  it  was  later 
revealed,  was  a  pseudonym  masking  the  collaborative  efforts  of  Henry 
Kuttner  and  his  wife— C.  L.  Moore.)  This  first  Padgett  story  was  a 
deftly  told  tale  of  robots  who  were  Indestructible  and  with  brains  de¬ 
signed  to  solve  any  problem.  But,  what  happens  when  the  indestruct¬ 
ible  robots  eventuaUy  approach  the  problem  of  how  they  themselves 
could  be  destroyed?  They  go  crazy,  of  course. 

Norman  L.  IGiight  in,  for  him,  a  surprisingly  humorous  vein,  told  of 
“Kilgallen’s  Lunar  Legacy,”  which  turned  out  to  be  an  incredible  col¬ 
lection  in  bulk  of  every  known  Intoxicating  potable  in  the  Solar  system 
cached  in  a  hidden  cave  on  the  far  side  of  the  moon.  And  Cleve  Cart- 
mill,  hitherto  noted  for  a  couple  of  fine  novels  and  a  brace  or  so  of 
short  stories  in  Unknown,  drew  an  excellent  picture  of  a  young  Neander- 
thaler’s  first  stumbling  realization  of  his  differentness  from  other 
animals,  in  a  short  story  called  “The  Link.” 

For  the  first  time  in  better  than  two  years,  a  cover  by  an  artist 
other  than  Hubert  Rogers  appeared  on  Astounding.  William  Timmins 
was  to  be  Astounding’s  sole  cover  artist  from  the  coming  December 
issue  until  late  in  1946,  except  for  one  cover  in  1944  and  one  in  1945. 
Initially,  Timmins’  covers  bore  some  resemblance  to  Rogers’  without 
Rogers’ exquisite  draftsmanship,  color  sense  and  compositional  talent, 
and  at  a  first  cursory  glance  they  appeared  to  be  rather  careless 
paintings  by  Rogers.  But  eventually  Timmins  broke  away  from  the 
influence  of  his  illustrious  predecessor  and  became  himself,  with 
sometimes  pleasing  residts.  Timmins’  main  fault  was  a  lack  of  pre¬ 
cision  in  his  drawing  and  a  generally  muddy  palette. 

The  September  cover  story  was  by  an  author  making  his  first  ap¬ 
pearance  in  Astounding,  Anthony  Boucher.  Boucher,  whose  real  name 
is  William  Anthony  Parker  White,  was  a  well  known  mystery  writer 
and  Sherlock  Holmes  buff  who  had  contributed  several  pieces  to  Un¬ 
known,  the  best  known  being  “The  Compleat  Werewolf.”  “Barrier,” 
Boucher’s  novelette,  was  an  excellent  story  involving  time  travel  and 
a  beautifully  developed  future  civilization  based  on  the  science  of 
philology.  One  of  the  characters  in  the  story,  the  man  who  developed 
the  machine  taking  the  hero  to  the  future,  was  one  Dr.  Derringer.  In 
1942  White  had  published,  under  another  of  his  pseudonyms,  H.  H. 


110 


ALVA  ROGERS 


Holmes,  a  mystery  novel  called  Rocket  to  the  Morgue.  This  novel 
concerned  the  murder,  under  what  amoxmted  to  locked-room  circum¬ 
stances,  of  Hilary  St.Johns  Foulkes,the  executor  of  the  literary  estate 
of  the  late,  great  Fowler  Foulkes,  the  phenomenaUy  successful  author 
of  a  series  of  science  fiction  novels  featuringthe  remarkable  adventures 
of  the  remarkable  Dr.  Derringer.  Fowler  Foulkes  was,  of  course,  a 
thinly  disguised  A.  Conan  Doyle,  and  Dr.  Derringer  was  patterned 
after  Professor  Challenger,  the  hero  of  Doyle’s  The  Lost  World  and 
other  science-fictional  adventures.  Most  of  the  suspects  and  secondary 
characters  in  Holmes’  novel  were  easily  identifiable  science  fiction 
authors,Heinlein,Cartmill, Hamilton,  etc.,  and  well  known  Los  Angeles 
science  fiction  fans  of  the  day. 

Cleve  Cartmill’s  novelette,  “With  Flaming  Swords,”  was  a  variation 
on  the  theme  of  theocratic  dictatorships  told  with  Cartmill’s  usual 
competence.  And  Lewis  Padgett  was  back  with  his  second  story,  the 
well  known  “Twonky,”  which  concerned,  among  other  things,  radios 
with  exceptional  qualities.  An  atrocious  adaptation  of  this  story  was 
later  filmed  as  a  vehicle  for  Hans  Conreid. 

One  of  the  outstanding  stories  of  the  year  was  Lester  del  Rey’s  long 
novelette,  “Nerves.”  This  was  a  mature,  and  remarkably  realistic 
story  of  an  explosion  in  an  atomic  products  plant  and  the  tremendous 
problems  confronting  the  plant  physician  in  his  efforts  to  cope  with  the 
aftermath  of  the  explosion.  Several  years  later,  del  Rey  somewhat 
rewrote  the  story  and  expanded  it  to  novel  length  for  book  publication 
(Ballantine,  1956);  none  of  the  initial  impact  or  prophetic  qualities  of 
the  original  were  lost  in  the  revision. 

Lester  del  Rey  returned  again  in  October  with  another  fine  story, 
“Limar  Landing,”  which  explored  the  possibilities  of  the  first  landing 
on  the  moon  not  being  the  first,  by  a  long  shot.  The  cover,  illustrating 
del  Rey’s  story,  was  a  lovely  painting  of  the  Earth  and  sun  viewed 
from  a  lunar  landscape,  and  was  painted  by  A.  von  Munchausen,  his 
one  and  only  cover  for  Astounding. 

Malcolm  Jameson  abandoned  “Bullard”  and  the  Space  Patrol  for  the 
nonce  to  tell  a  tale  of  Intertemporal  trading  posts  in  “Anachron,  Inc.” 
A.  E .  van  Vogt  came  up  with  a  “Second  Solution”  to  the  problem  of  the 
strong  minded  Ezwal,  and  Murray  Leinster  had  a  fine  short  story  in 
“The  Wobbler,”  which  was  a  remarkable  sort  of  submarine  mine— 
almost  human,  in  fact. 

George  O.  Smith’s  first  science  fiction  story  was  printed  in  this 
issue.  It  was  also  the  first  of  his  very  popular  “Venus  Equilateral” 
series.  “QRM-Interplanetary”  it  was  called,  and  was  concerned,  as 
were  most  of  the  stories  in  the  series,  with  problems  relating  to  inter¬ 
planetary  communications. 

L.  Ron  Hubbard’s  last  story  for  Astounding  until  1947,  a  short  story 
called  “The  Beast,”  rounded  out  the  issue.  This  was  an  account  of  a 
white  hunter’s  compulsive  himt  for  a  strange,  illusive  man-killii^ 
beast  in  the  forests  of  Venus.  It  could  just  as  easily  have  appeared  in 
a  general  fiction  magazine  with  an  African  locale  as  in  Astounding 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  111 

with  its  Venus  setting,  and  was  really  unworthy  of  the  man  who  wrote 
“Final  Blackout,”  “Fear,”  and  other  fine  novels. 

Cleve  Cartmill’s  cover  story  for  November,  “Overthrow,”  was  a 
smoothly  written,  fast  moving  account  of  the  overthrow  of  military 
dictatorships,  autonomous  city-states  (each devoted  to  a  single  function; 
Power  Center,  Textile  Center,  etc.),  and  the  power  and  influence  of 
business  executives  in  an  ostensibly  military  dominated  society. 

Will  Stewart  continued,  in  “Minus  Sign,”  the  careers  of  Drake  and 
McGee,  Spatial  Engineers,  in  their  development  and  control  of  seetee 
matter  and  expanded  on  the  growing  rift  between  the  miners  and  pio¬ 
neers  of  the  asteroids  and  the  Mandate  governing  the  planets. 

“Not  Only  Dead  Men,”  by  van  Vogt,  told  of  an  American  whaleship’s 
imexpected  involvement  in  an  interstellar  war,  how  the  Americans  in¬ 
advertently  helped  one  side,  and  how  they  were  subsequently  rewarded. 
A  very  nice  switch,  by  van  Vogt,  on  his  monster  theme. 

The  cover,  illustrating  Cleve  Cartmill’s  “Overthrow,”  is  of  passing 
interest;  a  pleasing,  but  not  outstanding  watercolor.  It  was  the  work 
of  Modest  Stein,  an  artist  who  did  many  covers  for  the  Munsey  maga¬ 
zines  over  the  years,  further  back  than  1913. 

An  eye-catching  cover,  one  of  Timmins’  all  time  best,  beautifully 
illustrated  A.  E.  van  Vogt’s  sensational  “The  Weapon  Shop,”  Decem¬ 
ber’s  featured  novelette.  The  concept  of  the  Weapon  Shops,  and  the 
conflict  between  them  and  the  Isher  Empire  which  ranges  through  all 
time,  was  only  touched  upon  with  a  tantalizing  glimpse  in  last  year’s 
short,  “The  Seesaw.” 

Seven  thousand  years  from  now  the  Isher  Empire  is  all  powerful  in 
the  inhabited  parts  of  the  Solar  system,  and  the  beautiful  and  ruthless 
Empress  Innelda,  the  one  thousand  one  hundred  eightieth  of  her  line, 
rules  with  all  power.  Four  thousand  years  before  this  time,  Walter  S. 
DeLaney  invented  the  vibration  process  that  made  the  Weapon  Shops 
possible  and  established  the  first  principles  of  the  Weapon  Shop  politi¬ 
cal  philosophy.  Essentially  the  philosophy  was  to  avoid  interference 
with  the  main  current  of  human  existence,  but  at  the  same  time  to  act 
as  a  brake  against  excesses  of  the  empire  and  its  ruling  family  in 
those  periods  when  its  rule  ran  to  excesses.  The  Weapon  Shops,  in 
the  main,  operated  quietly  and  unobtrusively,  appearing  overnight  where 
needed  and  ready  to  sell  for  a  fraction  of  their  worth  the  finest  energy 
weapons  in  the  universe  to  those  with  a  proven  need,  for  self  defense 
only;  “The  Right  to  Buy  Weapons  is  the  Right  to  be  Free.” 

Cleve  Cartmill  was  back  for  the  third  time  in  four  months  with 
another  novelette,  “Someday  We’ll  Find  You,”  about  Hunt  Club,  Inc.,  a 
sort  of  interplanetary  private  eye  outfit  specializing  in  commercial 
and  industrial  cases.  The  story  was  not  too  good,  but  Cartmill  wrote 
with  an  easy  and  colloquial  fluidity  that  made  his  stories  eminently 
readable. 

Frank  Belknap  Long’s  short  story,  “To  Follow  Knowledge,”  was  a 
strangely  beautiful  story  of  time  travel  and  plural  worlds.  “Piggy 
Bank,”  by  Padgett,  was  a  rather  grim  and  ironic  tale  of  blind  greed 


112 


ALVA  ROGERS 


and  a  diamond  studded  robot  that  didn’t  know  its  true  value. 

A  new  author  appeared  in  this  issue  with  a  short  story,  “The  Flight 
That  Failed,”  another  story  dealing  with  probable  futures,  but  laid  in 
the  present,  i.e.,  the  Second  World  War,  and  which  showed  how  a 
Hitlerian  future  was  aborted  during  an  airplane  flight.  The  author  was 
E.  M.  Hull,  the  wife  of  the  year’s  outstanding  author,  A.  E.  van  Vogt. 

And  so  the  first  year  of  the  “bedsheet”  size  Astounding,  and  the  third 
year  of  the  Golden  Age,  ends.  This  year  was  van  Vogt’s  year,  as  1941 
had  been  Heinlein’s;  “Asylum,”  “Co-operate— or  Else,”  “Recruiting 
Station,”  “Not  Only  Dead  Men,”  “Second  Solution,”  “Secret  Unattaina¬ 
ble,”  and  “The  Weapon  Shop”  were  stories  that  ranged  from  outstand¬ 
ing  to  competent,  with  “Asylum”  as  perhaps  the  best  story  of  the  year, 
althoi^h  MacDonald’s  “Beyond  This  Horizon,”  or  del  Rey’s  “Nerves” 
are  also  top  contenders  for  that  title. 

This  year  was  a  little  more  erratic  in  quality  than  the  preceding 
year,  with  fewer  classic  stories— fewer  issues  containing  more  than 
one  or  two  outstanding  stories  per  issue.  The  artwork  took  a  turn  for 
the  worse  with  the  departure  of  Schneeman  and  Rogers,  and  never 
again  would  Astounding  really  have  an  outstanding  position  in  terms  of 
the  consistent  quality  of  cover  and  interior  artwork.  One  of  the  most 
promising  events  of  the  year  was  the  beginning  of  Asimov’s  brilliant 
“Foundation”  series,  which  would  continue  for  several  years,  and 
would  also  produce  several  outstanding  stories  related  to— but  outside 
the  mainstream  of— the  “Foimdation”  stories.  Another  augury  for  a 
bright  future  was  the  advent  of  Lewis  Padgett  who  would  produce  some 
brilliant  stories  during  the  next  few  years.  Yet  to  be  encountered  was 
Lawrence  O’Donnell,  a  pseudonym  of  C.  L.  Moore,  which  was  also  used 
once  or  twice  to  byline  a  collaboration,  and  at  least  once  by  Henry 
Kuttner  alone. 

Will  Stewart  led  off  1943  with  the  first  installment  of  a  two-part 
novel,  “Opposites— React!,”  the  third  in  his  series  about  seetee  matter. 
The  problems  developed  in  “Collision  Orbit”  and  “Minus  Sign”  are 
brought  to  a  head  in  this  short  novel  with  Drake,  McGee  and  Drake, 
Asterite  engineers  and  discoverers  of  contraterrene  matter  in  the 
asteroid  belt,  attempting  to  perfect  a  means  of  harnessing  the  incalcula¬ 
ble  power  locked  in  seetee  matter.  Forming  a  counterpoint  to  the 
engineering  problems  involved  in  the  story  is  a  political  problem  that 
is  as  explosive  as  the  finicky  matter  the  trio  of  engineers  are  attempt¬ 
ing  to  control.  The  Solar  system  is  governed  by  the  Space  Mandate 
made  up  of  Earth,  the  Martian  Reich,  and  the  Jovian  Soviet;  a  mutually 
jealous  alliance.  Exerting  peripheral  pressure  on  the  Mandate  and  in 
many  ways  as  powerful,  is  Literplanet,  an  Earth  owned  corporation 
with  big  ideas.  Opposed  to  both  these  forces  in  their  desire  for  inde¬ 
pendence  are  the  Asterites;  settlers  on  the  asteroids  who  have  national¬ 
istic  yearnings.  Obviously,  whichever  of  this  trio  of  powers  achieves 
workable  control  of  seetee  matter  has  the  other  two  at  a  distinct  dis¬ 
advantage. 


December,  1942;  “To  Follow  Knowledge,  ”  illustration 
by  Charles  Schneeman. 


This  was  a  very  good  story,  in  which  Stewart  combines  the  socio¬ 
logical  theme  with  high  space  adventure  and  more  or  less  down-to- 
Earth  engineering  problems.  Although  it  was  good,  and  modern,  and 
within  the  realm  of  fairly  immediate  probability,  science  fiction  had 
lostsomethingirreplaceable  when  Jack  Williamson  abandoned  the  space 


114 


ALVA  ROGERS 


opera  field  in  which  he  wrote  with  such  imagination,  so  colorfully,  and 
with  such  elan. 

There  were  three  novelettes  in  this  issue,  “The  Search,”  by  van 
Vogt,  which  was  an  involved  time  travel  story— good,  but  not  tre¬ 
mendously  memorable;  “Barrius,  Imp.,”  by  Malcolm  Jameson,  a 
sequel  to  “Anachron,  Inc.,”  which  involves  the  time  spanning  trading 
company  with,  among  other  things,  ancient  Roman  politics,  and  finally 
Anthony  Boucher’s  “Elsewhen,”  a  beautiful  title  for  an  excellent  time 
travel-cum-mystery  story  featuring  Fergus  O’Breen,  an  Irish  detective 
who  had  earlier  been  involved  in  the  case  of  “The  Compleat  Werewolf” 
(Unknown,  April,  1942),  who  solves  the  case  of  the  suspect  who  claims 
to  have  been  not  only  elsewhere  than  at  the  scene  of  the  crime,  but 
elsewhen.  (Fergus  O’Breen  was  also  featured  ina number  of  Boucher’s 
classic  murder  mystery  novels  of  the  late  thirties  and  early  forties: 
The  Case  of  the  Crumpled  Knave,  The  Case  ^  the  Seven  Sneezes,  etc.) 

Of  the  four  short  stories  in  this  issue,  there  were  two  which  were 
excellent:  “Nothing  But  Gingerbread  Left,”  by  Henry  Kuttner  and  “Time 
Locker,”  by  Lewis  Padgett.  The  first  story  is  dated  now,  but  at  the 
time  it  was  written  it  had  considerable  impact.  It  concerned  a  brain¬ 
storm  an  American  professor  of  semantics  had  which  could  possibly 
shorten  (or  end)  the  war.  Devise  a  perfect  semantic  formula— one 
with  a  catchy  rhythm,  which,  when  once  heard  can  never  be  forgotten— 
and  beam  it  to  the  Germans  where,  in  theory,  it  would  so  obtrude  on 
the  consciousness  of  key  men  as  to  cause  chaos  in  the  Third  Reich. 
It  worked,  too.  In  the  second  story,  the  Kuttners  introduce  that  un¬ 
predictable,  wacky  and  almost  always  dnmken  genius  of  an  inventor, 
Galloway.  He  was  infinitely  inventive,  but  unfortunately  he  did  most  of 
his  inventing  while  completely  stoned  and  usually  had  difficulty  recall¬ 
ing  the  purpose  of  his  invention  once  he  sobered  up.  In  “Time  Locker” 
Galloway  invents  a  safe  in  which  anything,  of  any  size,  could  be  placed 
and  it  would  shrink  into  invisibility;  including,  even,  a  human  body. 

The  other  two  short  stories  were  authored  by  Ross  Rocklynne  and 
P.  Schuyler  Miller  and  were  not  particularly  notable. 

Timmins’ cover,  a  murky  and  busy  painting  illustrating  “Opposites— 
React!,”  was  not  too  bad,  but  made  one  wish  longingly  for  the  clean, 
precise  paintings~oI  Rogers. 

In  any  discussion  of  the  Golden  Age  there  is  always  one  story  that 
will  figure  prominently,  “The  Weapon  Makers,”  a  three-part  serial 
beginning  in  February,  by  A.  E.  van  Vogt.  Not  as  universally  praised 
as  “Sian,”  it  is  still  regarded  by  many  as  one  of  his  very  best  stories. 

This  was  the  third  in  the  “Weapon  Shop”  series  which  began  with 
“The  Seesaw,”  and  unquestionably  the  best.  The  world  of  the  Isher 
Empire  with  all  its  color  and  contrasts,  its  medieval  court  ritual  and 
its  scientific  sophistication  is  brought  out  in  much  greater  detail  than 
in  the  preceding  novelette,  “The  Weapon  Shop.”  The  two  central 
characters,  the  Empress  Innelda  and  Robert  Hedrock,  are  two  of  van 
Vogt’s  best  drawn  characters.  Innelda,  proud  and  beautiful,  intelligent 
and  capable,  but  fatally  doomed  as  a  result  of  generations  of  inbreed¬ 
ing  within  the  Isher  strain.  And  Robert  Hedrock,  the  immortal  man. 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


115 


with  a  long  range  plan  for  the  human  race,  who  thousands  of  years 
earlier  had  been  the  foimder  and  first  emperor  of  the  Isher  Empire, 
and  who  had  also  conceived  of  and  founded  the  Weapon  Shops  as  a 
permanent  opposition  and  counterbalance  to  the  absolute  power  of  the 
empire.  The  philosophy  of  the  Weapon  Shops  and  their  role  in  the 
scheme  of  things  is  also  presented  with  greater  detail  than  before, 
and  also  the  possibility  of  the  power  residing  in  the  Weapon  Shops 
being  misused.  To  add  verisimilitude  to  the  basic  story  of  the  Isher- 
Weapon  Shop  conflict  there  was  introduced  briefly  in  the  third  install¬ 
ment  an  incomprehensibly  alien  race  of  beings  who,  after  a  close  and 
dispassionate  observation  of  man,  reached  the  profound  conclusion 
that:  “This  much  we  have  learned;  here  is  the  race  that  shall  rule  the 
Sevagram.”  A  great  and  memorable  last  line  In  the  great  van  Vogt 
tradition.  Never  mind  what  it  means,  it  was  still  a  hell  of  a  great 
last  line. 

This  issue  also  contained  another  enduring  memento  of  the  Golden 
Age.  I  doubt  if  anyone  having  once  read  it  will  ever  quite  forget  the 
cumulative  horror  of  Lewis  Padgett’s  “Mimsy  Were  the  Borogoves.” 
This  story  of  two  boxes  of  toys  sent  back  in  time  from  the  remote 
future  to  land  in  nineteenth  century  England  and  twentieth  century 
America,  and  their  remarkable  effect  on  three  children,  was  a  true 
tour  de  force  on  the  part  of  the  Kuttners.  For  they  took  the  meaning¬ 
less  gibberish  of  Lewis  Carroll’s  “Jabberwocky”  and  transformed  it 
into  most  meaningful  and  startling  logic.  Meaningful  and  logical,  that 
is,  to  a  three -year -old  girl  and  a  seven-year -old  boy,  but  tragically 
incomprehensible  and  illogical  to  their  parents.  Many  parents  were 
then  tempted  to  listen  more  closely  to  their  children’s  chatter  and  ob¬ 
serve  more  careMly  their  childish  play,  at  least  until  the  spell  cast 
by  the  Kuttners  wore  off. 

“Opposites— ReactI  ”  concluded  this  month;  a  very  fine  story,  and 
with  the  way  left  open  for  an  obvious  sequel. 

The  Kuttner-Moore  team  was  back  again  with  the  March  cover  story 
and  a  short  story.  “Clash  by  Night,”  by  Lawrence  O’Donnell  (this  time, 
Heiury  Kuttner  alone)  was  a  tremendous  story  that  told  of  the  Keeps— 
underseas  cities  on  Venus  peopled  by  refugees  from  a  devastated  and 
uninhabitable  Earth— and  above  all,  of  the  Free  Companions.  The  Com¬ 
panions  were  mercenaries  with  a  proud  tradition,  organized  into  com¬ 
panies  of  a  few  thousand,  each  wiUi  its  colorful  and  devotedly  followed 
leader.  At  the  time  of  the  story  the  Free  Companions  are  entering  the 
twilight  of  their  existence,  as  is  the  whole  concept  of  warfare,  but  are 
stiU  a  significant  factor  in  the  world  of  the  Keeps. 

The  second  Kuttner  yarn  was  “Shock,”  by  Lewis  Padgett;  a  grim 
little  tale  of  a  man  from  the  future  who  comes  looking  for  someone  in 
the  present,  and  the  man  from  the  present  who  goes  to  the  future  ex¬ 
pecting  to  find  a  race  of  supermen  only  to  find  that  even  a  race  of 
supermen  can’t  all  be  perfect. 

“Shadow  of  Life,”  by  Clifford  Simak,  the  second  novelette  in  this 
issue,  failed  to  impress  too  much  althoiigh  it  was  readable  and  well 
written.  The  story  revolved  around  the  proposition  of  a  lurking  evil 


116 


ALVA  ROGERS 


existing  among  the  stars  which  eventually  would  engulf  Earth  if  man 
didn’t  (as  the  Martians  had  ages  earlier)  run  and  hide.  The  Martians 
had  taken  refuge  in  the  fourth  dimension  and  reduced  themselves  to 
subatomic  size.  At  the  same  time  they  left  behind  a  ghost,  one  “Elmer” 
who  contained  the  racial  memories  of  the  departed  Martians;  Elmer 
was  to  guard  their  hiding  place  and  at  the  same  time  try  to  convince 
the  Earthmen  of  the  desirability  of  emulating  the  Martians.  Needless 
to  say,  the  doughty  Earthmen  refuse  to  take  such  a  cowardly  course, 
preferring  to  stand  and  fight.  One  drawback  to  the  story  was  the  strong 
similarity  between  Elmer,  the  Martian  ghost,  and  Archie,  the  sentient 
creature  of  Venus,  in  the  same  author’s  fine  story,  “Tools”  (Astound¬ 
ing,  July,  1942). 

What  would  science  fiction  be  without  robots?  This  is  a  rhetorical 
question  prompted  by  the  next  story  under  discussion.  There  have 
been  many  fine  robot  stories  written  in  the  past,  and  there  will  un¬ 
doubtedly  be  many  more  written  in  the  future.  This  story  is  one  that 
seems  to  be  frequently  overlooked  whenever  the  subject  of  the  better 
robot  stories  arises.  I  speak  of  H.  H.  Holmes’  “Q.U.R.,”  which  mark¬ 
ed  a  radical  departure  from  the  usual  concept  of  robots.  “Q.U.R.” 
stood  for  Quinby’s  Usuform  Robots.  White  claims  to  have  coined  the 
word  usuform  to  describe  robots  designed  for  optimum  use  regardless 
of  final  form  in  contrast  to  robots  built  in  an  impracticable  human 
form.  This  is  the  first  story  that  I  know  of  in  which  the  classical 
science-fictional  concept  of  “robot,”  i.e.,  a  thinking,  independently- 
willed  entity  created  by  man,  is  conceived  of  in  a  form  other  than  one 
in  some  way  miming  the  human.  The  idea  was  beginning  to  gain  ac¬ 
ceptance  by  this  time  that  the  science-fictionist  was  largely  overlook¬ 
ing  the  fact  that  robots  existed  in  the  world  around  him  in  many  forms, 
and  had  for  some  time.  But  writers  continued  to  follow  the  pattern 
established  by  the  legend  of  the  Golem,  Mary  Shelley’s  Frankenstein, 
and  Capek’s  R.U.R.  that  robots  or  manufactured  creatures  with  the 
capacity  for  thinking  and  independent  action  must  have  a  humanoid 
shape.  This  long  standing  and  revered  cliche  was  given  quite  a  jolt 
by  “Holmes’”  fine  tale  which  had  the  added  advantage  of  containing 
some  fine  sophisticated  humor  which  enhanced  its  re- readability. 

The  second  instaUment  of  “The  Weapon  Makers,”  of  course,  com¬ 
pletely  dominated  everything  in  this  generally  fine  issue. 

Again,  in  the  April  issue,  “The  Weapon  Makers”  dominated  with  its 
tremendous  climax  and  its  bewildering  last  line.  This  was  one  of  the 
first  of  van  Vogt’s  novels  to  be  subsequently  brought  out  in  hard  covers. 
It  was  printed  in  a  small  edition  (Hadley,  1947),  went  out  of  print  very 
rapidly,  and  almost  immediately  started  commanding  fantastic  prices 
on  the  fan  market  comparable,  almost,  to  the  prices  being  asked  for 
the  coUection  of  H.  P.  Lovecraft  stories.  The  Outsider,  and  Others 
(Arkham,  1939). 

“Swimming  Lesson,”  by  Raymond  F.  Jones,  the  cover  story,  con¬ 
cerned  an  incipient  war  between  Earth  and  Venus  and  the  desperate 
urgency  for  Earth  to  find  an  effective  defense  against  the  seemingly 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  117 

ultimate  weapon  devised  by  the  Venusians.  The  method  used  to  force 
the  key  scientists  to  find  a  solution  to  the  problem  was  a  pragmatic 
one;  the  simplest  way  to  teach  a  child  to  swim  is  to  throw  him  in  the 
water  and  let  him  swim  back  to  shore.  In  this  case  the  military  started 
a  phony  war,  isolated  the  scientists  and  threatened  them  with  almost 
certain  destruction  with  a  stolen  model  of  the  Venusian  weapon  and 
thereby  ultimately  got  their  defense  which  restored  the  balance  of 
power  with  Venus  and  averted  immediate  war.  The  story  was  weaken¬ 
ed  by  a  too  melodramatic  ending  in  which  the  humanism  and  one  himd red 
per  cent  idealism  of  science— as  personified  by  the  hero-scientist— 
is  contrasted  to  the  innately  war- seeking  militarist. 

Lewis  Padgett  was  back  with  another  short  problem  yarn,  this  one 
about  robots  who  controlled  and  manipiilated  the  lives  of  men  for  their 
(man’s)  ultimate  good ...  it  was  claimed.  There  is  no  attempt  on  the 
part  of  the  robots  to  hide  or  disguise  what  they  are  doii^,  yet  mankind 
as  a  whole  is  oblivious  to  their  existence  and  the  occasional  person 
who  stumbles  onto  them  is  frustrated  in  any  attempt  to  alert  his  fel¬ 
lows  by  a  gimmick  the  robots  have  concealed  (a  la  “The  Purloined 
Letter”)  which  effectively  hamstrings  the  would-be  alarmist.  It  was 
called,  appropriately  enough,  “Open  Secret.” 

E,  Mayne  Hull  started  her  “Artur  Blord”  series  in  this  issue  with 
“Abdication,”  a  story  which  left  no  impression  at  all. 

On  the  “Editor’s  Page”  of  the  April  issue,  Campbell  announced  that 
startii^  next  month,  the  magazine  would  return  to  its  former  size. 
The  reasons  given  for  the  change  back  to  the  old  size  were,  of  course, 
the  war-caused  shortages  of  essential  metals  used  in  type,  and  the 
request  by  the  government  for  magazine  publishers  to  reduce  their 
paper  use  by  ten  per  cent.  Initially  attractive  and  impressive,  the 
“bedsheet”  Astounding  lasted  for  one  year  (all of  1942)  and  four  months, 
and  was  a  noble,  but  misguided  experiment. 

The  “bedsheet”  was  a  little  better  than  8-1/2  x  11-1/4  inches  in 
size  with  128  pages;  the  December,  1941  issue — the  last  book  size 
before  the  change  to  the  “bedsheet” — was  6-1/2  x  9-1/8  inches  with 
160  pages.  According  to  Campbell,  the  small  size  averaged  70,000 
words  an  issue,  the  “bedsheet”  came  out  at  100,000,  or  so.  This  in¬ 
creased  wordage  was  the  only  real  edge  the  large  size  had  over  the 
smaller;  in  all  other  respects  it  came  out  a  poor  second.  Probably 
the  biggest  disappointment  with  the  large  size  was  from  the  editor’s, 
or  the  publisher’s  end.  It  was  optimistically  assumed  that  the  large 
size  format  would  remove  Astounding  from  the  lowbrow  pulp  section  of 
the  newsstands  to  the  prestigious  highbrow  slick  section,  but  the  news¬ 
dealers  continued  to  display  it  as  always,  with  the  pulps. 

From  a  collector’s  standpoint,  the  bi^est  drawback  to  the  large 
size  was  and  is  its  insubstantial  qualities,  its  tendency  to  fall  apart 
even  with  the  most  tender  handling.  The  magazine  was  made  up  of 
four  signatures  of  thirty-four  pages,  precariously  held  together— 
hopefully— by  one  wire  staple. 


118 


ALVA  ROGERS 


With  the  February,  1943  issue,  Astounding  discontinued  the  practice 
of  printing  the  titles  of  the  stories  at  the  top  of  the  right  hand  page 
and  the  name  of  the  magazine  on  the  left,  and  instead  printed  the  name 
of  the  magazine  at  the  lower  corner  of  each  page,  an  irksome  thing  if 
one  laid  the  magazine  down  and  then  attempted  to  find  one’s  place 
again  in  the  story  one  was  reading. 

Of  course,  all  complaints  about  the  “bedsheet”  size  Astounding  have 
to  do  solely  with  the  physical  characteristics  of  the  magazine  and  not 
with  the  contents.  That’s  a  different  matter  entirely,  for  the  “bed- 
sheet”  Astounding  gave  us  many  memorable  stories:  “Breakdown,” 
by  Williamson;  “There  Shall  be  Darkness,”  by  C.  L.  Moore;  “Recruit¬ 
ing  Station,”  “The  Weapon  Shop,”  “The  Weapon  Makers,”  “Asylum,” 
“Co-operate— or  Else,”  by  van  Vogt;  “Foundation”  and  “Bridle  and 
Saddle,”  by  Asimov;  “Beyond  This  Horizon”  and  “Waldo,”  by  Heinlein; 
“Nerves,”  by  del  Rey;  “Clash  by  Night,”  by  O’Donnell;  “Mimsy  Were 
the  Borogoves,”  by  Padgett,  and  many,  many  others. 

The  artwork  in  the  “bedsheets”  was  generally  disappointing.  Except 
for  the  six  covers  in  1942  by  Hubert  Rogers,  the  covers  of  the  large 
size  issues  left  much  to  be  desired.  The  bestof  the  non-Rogers  covers 
were  probably  the  Munchausen  for  October,  1942  for  del  Rey’s  “Lunar 
Landing,”  Timmins’  December,  1942  illustration  for  “The  Weapon 
Shop,”  and  his  painting  for  February,  1943  for  “The  Weapon  Makers.” 
As  mentioned  earlier,  with  the  December,  1942  issue,  William  Timmins 
became  the  regular  cover  artist  and  remained  so,  with  only  a  couple 
of  exceptions,  until  well  after  the  war.  The  less  said  about  the  interior 
art  after  the  departure  of  Rogers  and  Schneeman,  the  better.  The  in¬ 
terior  illustrations  were  handled  by  a  variety  of  artists:  the  Isip 
brothers,  Kolliker,  Kramer,  Fax,  and  Orban;  with  Orban  by  far  the 
best  of  the  lot. 

In  spite  of  complaints  against  the  physical  imperfections  and  the  de¬ 
plorable  artwork  of  most  of  the  “bedsheets,”  nothing  can  obscure  the 
fact  that  some  of  the  finest  stories  of  the  Golden  Age  appeared  in  these 
few  issues,  and  it  is  this  fact  that  makes  the  “bedsheet”  era  memora¬ 
ble,  not  the  size  of  the  magazine.  Almost  twenty  years  later  (March, 
1963),  Campbell  would  return  to  the  large  size  in  a  much  slicker  form 
for  Analog.  Only  time  will  tell  how  successful  it  will  be  this  second 
time  around.  [It  proved  to  be  only  a  little  more  successful  than  the 
first  time  around.  The  large  size  Analog  lasted  for  just  over  two 
years,  from  March,  1963  to  March,  1S557| 


CHAPTER  IX 


SMALlER...ilND  SMALLER;  1943 


Tlie  new,  smaller  magazine  retained  the  logo  and  general 
appearance  of  the  “bedsheet,”  but  without  the  border  sur¬ 
rounding  the  cover  painting  that  distinguished  the  larger  size. 
The  price  remained  at  twenty-five  cents  a  copy  and  the  page 
count  went  back  to  160,  with  a  reduction  in  the  size  of  the 
type  and  narrower  margins  to  keep  the  word  count  at  approximately 
that  of  the  “bedsheet”;  100,000  words. 

The  lead-off  story  for  May  was  the  first  of  three  installments  of  one 
of  the  greatest  of  the  classics  of  the  Golden  Age,  a  favorite  of  the  year, 
and  one  of  the  top  ten,  or  at  least  top  twenty  favorites  of  all  time, 
“Gather,  Darkness!”  by  Fritz  Leiber,  Jr. 

This  was  a  marvelous  tale  of  action,  color,  intrigue,  and  romance, 
which  still  managed  to  convey  a  subtle  and  disturbii^  message  which 
gains  increasing  immediacy  as  time  goes  on.  Leiber’s  story,  laid  in 
the  year  360  of  the  Atomic  Age;  A.D.  2305,  told  of  when  science,  a 
greatly  advanced  and  awesome  science,  is  under  the  complete  control 
of  a  cynical  and  debased  religion  which  rules  with  absolute  power  over 
the  ignorant  and  superstitious  masses.  The  Priesthood,  most  of  which 
is  hereditary,  uses  not  only  its  science  to  keep  the  masses  in  serf-like 
squalor,  but  the  even  more  effective  weapon  of  psychology,  the  skillful 
use  of  religious  fear  and  superstition.  But  unknown  to  the  Priesthood 
a  rising  discontent  in  the  masses  and  in  the  lower  echelons  of  the 
Priesthood  has  culminated  in  the  formation  of  a  rebellious  underground 
that  takes  on  the  outward  trappings  of  a  Satanic  cult  with  witches,  war- 
locks,  and  familiars,  and  having  a  fearsomely  powerful  leader,  the 
Black  Man,  Sathanas. 

The  Witchcraft,  operating  underground  and  with  its  spies  penetrating 
the  Priesthood  all  the  way  up  to  the  Hierarchy,  has  learned  and  master¬ 
ed  most  of  the  secrets  of  science  so  jealously  guarded  by  the  Hier¬ 
archy  and  eventually  overthrows  them,  opening  the  door  at  last  to 


119 


ALVA  ROGERS 


knowledge  for  the  masses,  and  promising  a  new  democratic  life  for 
the  future. 

Although  this  was  purely  a  science  fiction  story  and  one  with  a  grim 
warning  of  the  hazards  of  secrecy  and  monopoly  surrounding  science 
and  scientific  research,  it  was,  at  the  same  time,  an  exciting  adventure 
tale  with  many  of  the  elements  of  “sword  and  sorcery*  fantasy  with 
which  Leiber  was,  and  is,  so  adept. 

Cleve  Cartmill  was  back  with  a  long  novelette,  ‘Let’s  Disappear,* 
the  best  of  his  Hunt  Club  stories  which  involved  the  club  in  a  search 
for  a  vanished  man  who  held  a  secret  so  inimical  to  humanity  that  its 
possession  by  one  man  constituted  a  clear  and  present  danger  to 
humanity’s  survival. 

The  rest  of  the  issue  was  made  up  of  short  stories.  “Ghost,*  by 
Henry  Kuttner,  which  was  about  a  calculator  haunted  by  a  manic-de¬ 
pressive  ghost,  was  the  best  of  the  lot.  A  short  story  by  a  new  and 
never  again  heard  from  author  was  a  close  second  to  Kuttner.  “Fifth 
Freedom”  by  John  Alvarez  (actually,  Lester  del  Rey)  probed  the  prob¬ 
lems  besetting  a  conscientious  objector  when  confronted  with  an  all- 
out  atomic  war  in  which  America  is  the  object  of  nuclear  attack.  This 
was  a  well -written  and  remarkably  prophetic  story,  and  surprisingly 
accurate  in  its  descriptions  of  nuclear  destruction.  And  finally,  there 
was  “Pacer,”  by  Raymond  F.  Jones, a  disappointing  story  concerning  a 
space  convoy  forced  to  hold  its  pace  down  to  the  speed  of  the  slowest, 
damaged  ship  in  the  convoy,  and  the  dangers  this  presented  to  the  en¬ 
tire  convoy.  This  could  just  as  well  have  been  written  about  any  of  the 
convoy  nms  across  the  Atlantic  during  the  war. 

The  cover  by  Timmins,  illustrating  “Gather,  Darkness  I,*  was  one 
of  his  better  covers,  but  still  too  busy  in  composition  and  painted  with 
too  muddy  a  palette. 

That  wacky,  drink-inspired  inventor  introduced  by  Padgett  in  the 
January  issue  in  “Time  Locker*  as  Galloway,  enlivened  the  June  issue 
in  the  cover  story,  “The  World  is  Mine,*  as  Gallegher,  the  name  by 
which  he  would  be  known  in  the  remaining  stories  in  this  delightful 
series.  In  this  story,  Galloway  Gallegher  wakes  up  from  one  of  his 
monumental  binges  to  find  the  Earth  invaded  by  small  rabbit-like 
creatures  from  Mars  who  plantively  bleat,  “This  world  is  mine.*  It 
seems  that  Gallegher,  while  stinking  drunk,  had  invented  a  time  ma¬ 
chine;  one  of  the  byproducts  of  the  machine  being  the  Lybblas,  the 
rabbitty  creatures  from  Mars.  A  very  funny  story  built  on  a  firm 
science-fictional  foundation. 

The  second  of  the  “Venus Equilateral*  series,  “Calling  the  Empress,* 
by  George  O.  Smith,  was  a  problem  yarn.  The  problem;  Send  a  tight 
communication  beam  to  a  space  ship  lost  somewhere  in  uncountable 
millions  of  cubic  miles  of  space.  This  novelette,  like  all  the  others  in 
this  series,  suffered  from  one  major  flaw.  Smith’s  absorption  with  the 
technical  details  of  his  problems,  with  the  concomitant  lack  of  attention 
to  characterization. 

Anthony  Boucher,  who  had  written  an  article  on  the  prophecies  of 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


122 


ALVA  ROGERS 


Nostradamus  in  Unknown  (“On  A  Limb,”  October,  1941),  and  had  been 
carrying  on  a  friendly  running  feud  with  the  great  debunker,  L. Sprague 
de  Camp  on  the  merits  and  demerits  of  the  Frenchman’s  predictions, 
presented  in  his  short  story,  “Pelagic  Spark,”  a  pretty  good  argument 
as  to  just  how  any  prediction,  if  obscurely  enoi^h  worded  will,  in  good 
time,  come  to  pass.  Starting  in  A.D.  1942  he  has  Lieutenant  L. Sprague 
de  Camp,  USNR,  resolving  to  settle  Boucher  and  the  rest  of  the  Nostra- 
damians  once  and  for  all  by  making  up  out  of  whole  cloth  a  prediction 
of  his  own  and  having  it  published.  This  he  does  in  the  form  of  a 
limerick: 

Pelagic  young  spark  of  the  East 
Shall  plot  to  subvert  the  Blue  Beast, 

But  he’ll  dangle  on  high 
When  the  Ram’s  in  the  sky. 

And  the  Cat  shall  throw  dice  at  the  feast! 

The  de  Camp  article  was  published  in  the  December  issue  of  Esquire, 
comes  to  the  attention  of  a  marine  sergeant  in  the  South  Pacific,  and 
from  there  Boucher  follows  the  progression  of  events  until,  in  A.D. 
2045,  de  Camp’s  make-believe  prophecy  actually  comes  to  pass.  A 
lovely,  lovely  yam,  and  one  I  imagine  Boucher  got  a  great  kick  out  of 
writing.  (Note:  The  de  Camp  “prophecy”  actually  appeared;  see 
Esquire,  December,  1942.) 

White,  writing  this  time  as  H.  H.  Holmes,  was  less  successful  in  his 
second  story  in  this  issue,  “Sanctuary.”  A  story  of  the  war,  it  involves 
commandos  and  time  travel,  and  was  not  up  to  his  usual  high  standards . 

Lester  del  Rey,  on  the  other  hand,  created  a  gem  about  the  war  in 
his  short  story,  “Whom  the  Gods  Love,”  about  a  fighter  pilot  who  is 
shot  down  by  the  Japanese  with  a  bullet  dead  center  in  his  forehead 
which  miraculously  enough  doesn’t  kill  him,  but  instead  endows  him 
with  superhuman  powers,  which  for  a  brief  time  creates  consternation 
and  wreaks  havoc  amongst  the  Japanese  flyers. 

E.  M.  Hull  brings  back  Artur  Blord  in  “Competition,”  another  in  her 
stories  of  high  finance  and  economic  skuldv^gery  among  the  Ridge 
Stars. 

Willy  Ley  had  an  interesting  article  on  the  Sargasso  Sea  called  “The 
Sea  of  Mystery,”  and  the  second  installment  of  “Gather,  Darkness!” 
rounded  out  an  exceptionally  good  issue,  considering  the  number  of 
stories  competing  for  the  reader’s  attention. 

“Hunch,”  the  July  cover  story  by  Clifford Simak,  was  (as  was  “Tools” 
and,  to  a  lesser  extent,  “Shadow  of  Life”)  an  excellent  example  of  the 
new  Simak  who  could  combine  fine  characterization,  plot,  and  idea 
into  an  exceptionally  fine  modern  story.  Sanctuary,  Inc.,  is  a  haven 
for  man,  who  is  showing  an  increasing  tendency  to  break  down  mentally 
under  the  stresses  of  a  complex  society  and  the  problems  of  space 
development.  Sanctuary  is  the  product  of  the  Asterites,  remnants  of 
the  Fifth  planet  destroyed  ages  before  by  the  extinct  Martians.  But 
the  Martians  are  not  totally  extinct,  to  the  eventual  dismay  of  the 
Asterites.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  story  we  find  that  man  has  dis- 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


123 


covered  that  the  phenomena  of  hunches  under  certain  conditions  can 
be  a  reliable  guide  to  action,  and  is  actually  the  ability  to  foresee  a 
short  way  into  the  future. 

“The  Great  Engine,”  by  van  Vogt,  was  a  fine  tale  of  how  atomic 
power,  in  the  form  of  an  engine,  was  secretly  developed  during  the 
war,  and  how  the  scientists  involved  in  its  development,  fearing  its 
misuse  on  Earth,  slip  away  and  settle  on  Venus,  there  to  organize  a 
society  on  the  pattern  of  the  United  States  and  based  on  atomic  power. 
In  the  years  following  this  event  the  Venusians  clandestinely  recruit 
additional  scientists  and  their  families  on  Earth  and  transport  them  to 
Venus.  One  of  their  atomic  powered  ships  is  wrecked  by  a  meteorite 
as  it  approaches  Earth  and  falls  unnoticed  to  Earth  to  be  demolished 
except  for  its  indestructible  engine.  This  engine  is  subsequently 
discovered  by  Pendrake,  an  inventor  who,  in  his  efforts  to  discover 
the  genesis  of  the  engine,  gets  wind  of  the  Venusians  and  naturally 
assumes  that  they  are  inimical  to  Earth.  A  typical  van  Vogt  problem, 
involved  and  deceptive,  but  well  written  and  believable. 

“Gather,  Darkness!”  concluded  in  this  issue  with  the  big  showdown 
between  the  Hierarchy  and  the  Witchcraft,  with  the  Witchcraft  winning 
out  over  the  forces  of  perverted  science.  One  of  the  gimmicks  Leiber 
used  in  this  marvelous  novel  was  one  that  has  been  occasionally  popular 
with  one  or  two  Astounding  authors  during  this  period.  This  is  the 


124 


ALVA  ROGERS 


“Symbol,”  the  “Champion,”  the  “Rallying  Point”  for  oppressed  peoples 
that  Campbell  pioneered  with  his  “Aesir,”  and  that  Heinlein  also  used 
in  ‘Sixth  Column”;  a  giant,  man- like  manifestation  designed  to  throw 
fear  and  confusion  into  the  ranks  of  the  enemy.  In  “Gather,  Darkness  I” 
it  was  a  htige,  black  flying  creature  called  Sathanas  who  symbolized 
the  Witchcraft  and  inspired  its  followers  to  destroy  the  Great  God  and 
its  priest-scientists. 

C.  L.  Moore,  always  a  welcome  but  infrequent  contributor,  returned 
in  August  with  the  first  installment  of  a  two-part  novel,  “Judgment 
Night,”  her  first  novel.  This  fine  story  was  typical  of  Miss  Moore  at 
her  best;  exotically  colorful,  rich  in  characterization,  and  carefully 
detailed.  The  theme  of  the  story  was  one  which  she  had  dealt  with 
before;  the  imminent  fall  of  empire.  The  Lyonese  Dynasty  which  held 
the  world  called  Ericon,  which  in  turn  controlled  the  galaxy,  was 
threatened  with  extinction  by  the  approaching  hoard  of  invading  bar¬ 
barians  known  as  the  H’vani  who  were  moving  inexorably  inward  toward 
Ericon,  conquering  all  planets  in  its  way.  The  story  revolves  aroimd 
the  personal  problems  of  Juille,  the  daughter  of  the  Lyonese  emperor, 
warrior  reared  and  contemptuous  of  what  she  believes  to  be  her  father’s 
weakness,  and  Egide,  a  charming  young  man  who  turns  out  to  be  the 
ruler  of  the  H’vani.  The  fate  of  empires  hangs  upon  their  personal 
conflicts.  The  conflicts  are  romantically  resolved,  but  in  the  interim 
Miss  Moore  fills  the  pages  of  her  story  with  action,  intrigue,  and  color. 
Miss  Moore  is  a  master  at  combining  exotic  romanticism  with  slash¬ 
ing  action  and  coming  up  with  a  finefusionof  fantasy  and  science  fiction. 

Boucher’s  novelette,  “One  Way  Trip,”  was  another  story  of  revolt- 
revolt  against  universal  peace.  The  world,  following  the  disastrous 
war  of  the  twentieth  century,  had  embraced  the  philosophy  of  Devarupa, 
an  obscure  Indian  leader  who  preached  passive  resistance  and  the 
sanctity  of  human  life  in  a  very  effective  manner.  Several  generations 
after  the  world  became  Devarupian,  restlessness  and  discontent  over 
unending  peace  began  to  emerge  in  certain  elements  of  society,  and 
world  peace  was  in  danger.  Boucher  came  up  with  something  new  in 
the  way  of  sc  fence -fictional  villains  in  this  story;  a  Hollywood  (or 
Sollywood,  as  it  came  to  be  called  after  the  invention  of  solid  pictures) 
producer  of  spectaculars  who  had  delusions  of  grandeur,  and  who 
thought  he  had  found  a  weapon  in  a  weaponless  world  which  could  back 
him  iq). 

Van  Vogt  returned  with  the  Space  Beagle  and  its  crew  of  scientists 
in  a  short  story,  “M33  in  Andromeda,”  which  presented  the  scientists 
with  their  most  fearsome  monster  and  their  greatest  challenge;  a 
galaxy  spanning  creature  composed  of  gas  that  lived  and  grew  on  the 
ebbing  life  forces  of  creatures  inhabiting  jungle  worlds  who  were  con¬ 
stantly  fighting  and  dying.  This  was  the  least  successful  of  the  Space 
Beagle  stories.  The  monster,  the  “Anabis,”  was  not  nearly  so  colorful 
or  memorable  as  the  two  previous  monsters,  Couerl  and  Xtl,  and 
seemed  to  be  much  less  menacing  than  those  two  more  anthropomorphic 
creations  of  van  Vogt’s,  although  it  was  supposed  to  be  the  greatest  of 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


125 


them  all. 

Lewis  Padgett  had  an  inconsequential  story  in  “Endowment  Policy,” 
and  Malcolm  Jameson  had  another  Anachron,  Inc.  story  in  “When  is 
When?”  In  a  short  story,  “The  Mutant’s  Brother,”  Fritz  Leiber,  Jr., 
tells  of  two  brothers,  twins,  who  have  telepathic  powers  which  enables 
them  to  not  only  read,  but  control  other  minds,  either  singly  or  in 
mass.  The  only  trouble  was,  one  was  bent  on  controlling  and  manipu¬ 
lating  the  minds  of  others  with  the  eventual  goal  of  world  power,  and 
the  only  one  who  stood  a  chance  of  frustrating  this  ambition  was  his 
brother,  and  in  order  to  do  so  he  would  have  to  kill  his  “evil”  brother 
who  was  the  only  other  one  of  his  kind.  And,  finally,  Willy  Ley  started 
a  two-part  article  on  a  fascinating  subject:  “The  End  of  the  Rocket 
Society”;  the  Rocket  Society,  of  course,  being  the  German  Rocket 
Society  to  which  Ley  belonged  in  the  late  twenties  and  early  thirties, 
and  which  he  elaborated  on  further  in  his  book  Rockets,  published  by 
Viking  in  1944. 

Hal  Clement  took  the  September  cover  with  a  fine  novelette, “Attitude,” 
a  fairly  long  story  of  the  capture  of  a  space  ship  and  its  crew  and  the 
unorthodox  behavior  of  the  captors.  And  Ray  Bradbury  appeared  for 
the  first  and  last  time  in  Astounding  with  a  short  formula  yam  called 
“Doodad”  which  was  one  of  Bradbury’s  least  memorable  stories.  Tony 
Boucher  continued  to  explore  the  problems  besetting  Quinby  and  his 
Usuform  Robots  in  attempting  to  buck  the  monopoly  of  Robots,  Inc.,  in 
a  short  story,  “Robinc,”  and  A.  E.  van  Vogt’s  short  story,  “Conceal¬ 
ment”  told  of  the  elaborate  measures  taken  by  the  Dellian  system  to 
conceal  the  location  of  the  Fifty  Suns  from  chance  discovery  by  Earth 
ships,  and  also  of  the  importance  of  constantly  watching  and  mapping 
galactic  storms. 

C.  L.  Moore  brought  her  excellent  novel,  “Judgment  Night,”  to  a 
satisfyingly  romantic  conclusion,  and  Willy  Ley  wound  up  his  account 
of  the  last  days  of  the  German  Rocket  Society,  “The  End  of  the  Rocket 
Society,”  by  showing  how  the  Nazis  stepped  in  and  took  over,  at  which 
point  Mr.  Ley  packed  iqj  and  left  for  the  United  States.  This  was  a 
fascinating  article  when  it  was  first  written,  and  is  doubly  so  when 
read  at  the  present  time. 

October  was  the  last  standard  size  Astounding,  starting  with  the  next 
issue  the  magazine  would  initiate  the  trend  to  digest  size  science 
fiction  magazines.  Most  fans  of  the  day  were  willing  to  accept  the 
size  change  in  the  sweet  name  of  patriotism;  however,  when  the  war 
was  over  and  Astounding  stayed  small,  many  of  them  felt,  in  some 
vague  way,  betrayed  by  [Campbell. 

A.  E.  van  Vogt  claimed  the  cover  with  “The  Storm,”  a  sequel  to 
“Concealment”  in  the  last  issue.  The  Earth  ship  that  had  inadvertently 
come  upon  a  Dellian  weather  station,  but  had  been  unable  to  find  the 
Fifty  Suns  that  comprised  the  Dellian  complex,  finally  stumbles  on  one 
of  the  planets  inhabited  by  the  descendants  of  the  Dellian  robots  who 
had  been  driven  from  Earth  fifteen  thousand  years  earlier.  The  head 
official  of  this  planet  enlists  the  aid  of  Captain  Maltby,  a  Mixed-Man, 


126 


ALVA  ROGERS 


to  guide  the  Earth  ship  to  the  central  planet  of  the  galaxy ;  with  additional 
orders  to  see  that  the  ship  is  steered  into  a  mammoth  nuclear  storm 
that  is  raging  in  the  Lesser  Magellanic  Cloud.  This  was  the  second  of 
a  three-story  series  about  the  Dellian  Robots,  a  fine  example  of  van- 
Vogtian  complexity. 

Raymond  F.  Jones’  “Fifty  Million  Monkeys”  explored  the  possibility 
of  accelerating  scientific  development,  and  surmoimtingthe  Randomness 
Principle,  by  pooling  human  brains  into  teams  to  attack  a  problem 
with  what  would  be  in  essence  one  stupendous  brain.  This  was  a  beauti¬ 
fully  developed  story  and  one  of  Jones’  finest, 

Galloway  Gallegher,  the  inebriated  inventor,  was  at  his  hilarious 
best  in  “Proud  Robot,”  by,  of  course,  Lewis  Padgett,  who  wrote,  in  the 
first  line;  “Originally  the  robot  was  intended  to  be  a  can  opener.” 
However,  the  robot  did  nothing  but  stand  around  narcissistically  admir¬ 
ing  itself  in  a  mirror  while  Gallegher,  hung  over  as  usual,  tried  des¬ 
perately  to  remember,  or  find  out,  what  its  true  function  was.  A  lovely 
yam. 

“Symbiotica,”  by  Eric  Frank  Russell,  was  the  third  of  the  Jay  Score 
stories  to  appear  (“Jay  Score,”  May,  1941  and  “Mechanistria,”  January, 
1942),  which  had  as  their  central  character.  Jay  Score,  Robot.  This 
adventure  takes  Jay  Score  and  his  companions  to  a  remote  planet  which 
on  first  sight  seems  to  be  harmless,  but  turns  out  to  be  peculiarly 
dangerous  as  the  unique  nature  of  their  symbiotic  system  becomes 
frighteningly  clear. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  fruitless  speculation  among  the  fans  in  the 
weeks  preceding  the  appearance  of  the  new  small  Astounding  on  Octo¬ 
ber  8,  as  to  what  it  would  look  like.  When  it  finally  did  appear,  the 
initial  reaction  was  in  the  main  favorable.  The  magazine  was  5-1/2  x 
7-3/4  inches  in  size,  had  176  pages,  was  thickly  compact,  boasted  a 
sixteen  page  rotogravure  section  for  articles,  and  contained  none  of 
the  type  of  advertising  commonly  associated  with  pulp  magazines;  in 
fact  it  contained  no  ads,  period.  The  cover  by  Timmins,  illustrating 
George  O.  Smith’s  novelette  “Recoil”  was  pretty  poor,  but  that  was  to 
be  expected.  One  touch  that  I  particularly  liked  was  the  use  of  a  cut  of 
a  rocket  ship  by  Elliot  Bold  to  illustrate  the  contents  page;  a  nice 
reminder  of  the  past. 

Smith  was  back  with  Don  Channing  and  the  rest  of  the  personnel  of 
“Venus  Equilateral”  in  the  aforementioned  “Recoil,”  which  was  some¬ 
thing  about  an  electron  gun,  a  super  development  of  the  kinescope  tube, 
used  for  destroying  meteors  and,  later,  space  ships.  The  only  trouble 
with  their  use  as  weapons  on  space  ships  was  the  recoil  effect  from 
the  discharge  of  a  stream  of  high-powered  electrons. 

“The  Beast,”  by  van  Vogt,  was  a  sequel  to  “The  Great  Engine”  from 
the  July  issue.  In  this  story,  Pendrake,  the  man  who  had  discovered 
the  strange  engine  on  a  hillside  and  subsequently  discovered  the 
Venusians,  former  Allied  scientists  who  had  developed  atomic  power 
and  taken  it  to  Venus,  becomes  the  victim  of  a  torturous  plot  by  neo- 
Nazis  who  are  hoping  to  revive  Hitlerism  with  the  aid  of  atomic  power . 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


127 


The  best  story  in  the  issue  was  Padgett’s  “Gallegher  Plus,”  a  long 
novelette  in  which  Galloway  Gallegher  is  again  confronted  with  the 
consequences  of  his  inability  to  remember  any  of  the  events  occurring 
during  one  of  his  periodic  dnmks.  He  returns  to  sobriety  to  find  an 
inexplicable  contraption  in  his  living  room  in  full  operation,  the  product 
of  his  subconscious  inventive  genius.  This  one  was  an  undistinguished 
looking  box-Ilke  affair  with  thin  filaments  running  from  it  through  the 
window  and  into  the  back  yard,  which  it  was  diligently  reducing  to  a 
huge  hole  in  the  ground  at  a  steady  rate.  The  “Gallegher”  stories  of 
Padgett  appealed  on  two  levels,  the  science-fictional  and  detectival. 
The  construction  of  the  stories  was  detectival  with  the  problem  clearly 
presented  at  the  beginning  and  with  the  detective  (Gallegher)  pursuing 
the  truth  down  the  trail  of  clues  left  by  the  author.  At  the  same  time 
they  were  legitimately  science  fiction  with  the  problem,  as  presented, 
being  one  that  could  only  be  answered  science-fictionally. 

December  rounded  out  the  tenth  full  year  of  Astounding  under  the 
Street  &  Smith  label  and  also  marked  the  end  of  the  most  notable  years 
of  the  so-called  Golden  Age.  The  issue,  as  such,  contained  nothing 
outstanding  with  the  possible  exception  of  a  long  novelette  by  Anthony 
Boucher  which  had  been  originally  intended  for  the  recently  deceased 
and  universally  mourned  Unknown  Worlds,  “We  Print  the  Truth.” 
This  concerned  a  newspaper  that  printed  nothii^  but  the  truth  because 
everything  it  printed  came  true.  Other  stories  were  “The  Debt,”  by 
E.  Mayne  Hull,  another  in  the  Artur  Blord  adventures  and  the  cover 
story;  “Lost  Art,”  by  George  O.  Smith,  which  was  about  a  strange 
tube  and  an  instruction  manual  left  behind  by  the  vanished  race  of 
Martians;  the  problem  was,  although  the  manual  was  completely  de¬ 
tailed  as  to  the  operation  of  the  tube,  it  gave  no  indication  as  to  its 
function  in  an  obviously  more  complex  operation;  “The  Iron  Standard,” 
by  Padgett,  which  dealt  with  the  difficulties  confronting  a  group  of 
Earthmen  stranded  on  Venus  for  a  year  and  forced  to  make  a  living 
for  that  time  by  the  only  means  at  their  disposal,  but  a  means  that  is 
not  only  illegal  but  culturally  taboo,  and  “Fricassee  in  Four  Dimensions,” 
by  P.  Schuyler  Miller,  an  amusing  tale  of  a  tramp  with  remarkable 
culinary  skills. 

Tradition  and  nostalgia  have  ineradicably  fixed  upon  the  years  cur¬ 
rently  under  discussion  the  designation  of  the  Golden  Age,  but  if  we 
must  chop  the  time-line  of  Astounding  into  eras,  or  ages,  or  whatever, 
for  the  sake  of  accuracy  this  period  should  rightfully  be  labeled  the 
Second  Golden  Age.  To  mark  the  demarcation  line  between  a  Golden 
Age  and  the  preceeding  and  following  years  is  an  extremely  difficult 
task;  actually,  almost  impossible.  A  magazine  doesn’t  change  radically 
from  one  month  to  the  next  in  the  ordinary  course  of  events .  One  ex¬ 
ception  to  this  is  where  one  publisher  or  editor  takes  over  from  another. 
When  Street  &  Smith  took  over  Astoimding  from  the  Clayton  chain  and 
installed  F.  Orlin  Tremaine  as  editor,  the  policy  and  appearance  of  the 
magazine  were  completely  changed  from  the  Clayton  Astounding,  and 


ALVA  ROGERS 


the  ensuing  three  or  four  years  constitute  what  is  essentially  the  first 
Golden  Age  of  Astounding.  Where  it  ended  and  the  interregnum  com¬ 
menced  is  hard  to  say.  The  last  couple  of  years  of  Tremaine’s  tenure 
fell  off  somewhat  from  the  high  level  at  which  he  had  held  the  maga¬ 
zine  during  the  first  two  years  of  his  editorship,  and  John  W.  Campbell, 
Jr.  took  roughly  a  year  and  a  half  to  really  get  a  solid  grip  on  things 
when  he  became  editor.  When  he  finally  did  get  things  going  the  way 
he  wanted  them  to,  the  second  Golden  Age  came  into  being. 

It  is  easy  enough  to  ascribe  the  beginning  of  this  second  Golden  Age 
to  the  July,  1939  issue;  the  hazard  sets  in  when  you  attempt  to  pinpoint 
the  ending.  I’m  going  to  meet  this  problem  head  on,  and  pinpoint  it  at 
December,  1943.  This  brought  the  richest  years  of  the  Golden  Age  to 
a  close.  But  to  satisfy  those  who  are  unwilling  to  restrict  the  Golden 
Age  to  these  few  short  years,  I  wiU  concede  that  the  next  two  years 
could  be  considered  a  Final  Phase  of  the  Golden  Age,  with  the  maga¬ 
zine  settled  on  a  moderately  high  plateau  of  competence,  from  which 
the  outstanding  and  classic  stories  reared  like  isolated  mountain  peaks . 

The  features  that  distinguished  the  years  1939-1943  were  exciting 
new  ideas,  talented  new  authors,  refurbished  old  authors,  and  a  deluge 
of  exceptional  stories  from  their  typewriters.  This  phenomenon  was 
the  unique  property  of  these  few  short  years,  but  the  momentum  begun 
then  carried  the  main  aspects  of  the  Golden  Age  onward  for  a  few 
more  years. 

There  is  another  aspect  of  science  fiction,  particularly  the  science 
fiction  fovmd  in  Astounding  from  1934  through  the  middle  forties,  that 
will  be  briefly  discussed  here;  an  aspect  that  materially  contributed  to 
both  the  Golden  Ages  and  the  years  between.  This  is  the  much  mis¬ 
understood  Sense  of  Wonder.  It  is  true  that  most  of  the  stories  of  this 
period  lack  the  literary  polish  and  sophistication  of  the  contemporary 
output,  but,  oh  I  the  Sense  of  Wonder,  the  breathless  adventure  and  the 
boundless  imagination  they  had  instead.  This  was  what  made  so  much 
of  the  older  science  fiction  so  intensely  memorable  and  classic.  Today 
it  is  virtually  impossible  to  generate  the  same  enthusiasm  for  a  story 
that  could  be  generated  ten,  fifteen,  or  twenty  years  ago. 

In  the  final  analysis  a  Sense  of  Wonder  is  the  priceless  possession 
of  the  youthful  discoverer  of  science  fiction;  it  may  last  but  for  a  short 
fleeting  instant,  or  it  may  stay  with  him  for  a  number  of  years.  At  any 
rate,  it  is  sooner  or  later  lost,  seldom  to  be  recovered. 


CHAPTER  X 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE-FINAL  PHASE:  1944-1946 


By  1944,  Astounding  was  beginning  to  show  signs  of  be¬ 
coming  somewhat  self-conscibusly  impressed  with  its 
own  significance  in  terms  of  its  self-designated  vanguard 
position  in  the  field  of  scientific  thinking;  This  was  evidenced 
largely  by  Campbell’s  occasional  mention  of  the  fact  that 
the  magazine  was  read  by  more  and  more  scientists  and  engineers  and 
was  attracting  writing  talent  from  these  fields .  Whether  or  not  this 
was  actually  true,  doesn’t  matter.  The  story  oriented  around  engi¬ 
neering  themes  and  problems  such  as  Clement  and  George  O.  Smith 
were  writing  at  this  time,  had  a  strong  following,  but  they  always 
seemed  to  be  merely  the  updating  of  the  approach  to  science  fiction 
that  Gernsback  and  T.  O’Conor  Sloane  had  in  the  Amazing  of  the 
twenties;  that  the  ideal  science  fiction  story  is  one  that  is  related  to 
known  scientific  facts  and  extrapolates  from  there.  This  was  great  for 
those  who  liked  it,  but  fortunately  there  was  enough  of  the  truly  imagi¬ 
native  science  fiction  to  offset  this  more  technical  form  and  keep  the 
Golden  Age  alive  to  some  extent  for  a  number  of  years.  Camplxell,  to 
give  him  his  due,  continued  to  give  us  as  many  outstanding  and  original 
stories  as  he  was  able  to  get  and  seemed  as  delisted  as  the  next  fan 
when  a  really  good  story  appeared. 

The  first  thing  to  mention  about  1944  is  that  this  was  the  first  year 
of  the  digest  size  Astoxmding,  a  size  it  retained  to  the  end  with  minor 
variations  in  dimensions.  (The  digest  size  was  continued  after  the 
change  of  name  to  Analog  and  was  retained  until  Analog  adopted  the 
large  size  with  the  March,  1963  issue.)  Astounding  lost  an  intangible 
aura  that  surrounded  the  larger  sizes  when  it  became  digest  sized. 
As  noted  earlier,  the  paper  used  in  these  first  few  years  of  the  digest 
size  was  a  rather  coarse  and  bulky  pulp;  a  far  cry  from  the  almost 
slick  paper  used  in  today’s  Analog. 


129 


130 


ALVA  ROGERS 


The  biggest  disappointment  in  1944  was  the  paucity  of  good  serials 
to  see  print.  In  1943  we  had  “The  Weapon  Makers,"  ‘Gather,  Dark¬ 
ness!,”  and  “Judgment  Night”;  each  a  classic.  In  1944  we  had  only  two 
complete  serials:  In  May,  “The  Winged  Man,”  by  E.  Mayne  Hull,  a 
two-parter  that  didn’t  even  merit  a  cover,  and  “Renaissance,”  by 
Raymond  F.  Jones,  a  four-part  serial  starting  in  July.  (“Nomad,”  by 
Wesley  Long,  a  pseudonym  of  George  O.  Smith,  started  in  December 
and  will  be  discussed  later.) 

“The  Winged  Man”  was  a  moderately  interesting  story  of  a  U^S. 
submarine  beii^  whisked  through  time  a  million  years  from  1945.  In 
this  far  distant  future  they  find  that  the  Earth  has  been  completely 
covered  by  a  new  flood  which  has  forced  the  survivors  to  develop  two 
new  races  of  man;  the  winged  man  and  the  submarine  man.  These  two 
races  were  fighting  a  total  war  of  destruction  to  see  who  would  be  top 
dog  in  the  future  when  the  waters  had  receded,  and  the  winged  men, 
who  had  the  advantage  of  a  time  apparatus,  were  plucking  potential 
allies  from  the  past.  The  problem  confronting  the  sub  crew  was  which 
of  two  equally  brilliant  races  should  they  help  to  destroy  the  other, 
and  what  were  the  chances  of  returning  to  the  twentieth  century.  Miss 
Hull  always  gave  the  Impression  of  being  a  second-rate  writer,  and 
this  short  novel  didn’t  materially  change  that  impression. 

“Renaissance,”  Raymond  F.  Jones’  great  novel,  bore  out  the  promise 
that  had  been  implicit  in  his  first  story,  “Test  of  the  Gods.”  “Renais¬ 
sance”  was  a  marvelously  rich  and  imaginative  tale  of  two  planets. 
Earth  and  Kronweld,  linked  together  in  an  unique  and  vitally  Important 
fashion,  and  the  conflicting  forces  at  workto  either  increase  the  tenuous 
contact  between  the  two  worlds  or  sever  it  completely.  Jones  peopled 
his  novel  with  a  fine  assortment  of  characters  who  performed  their 
roles  in  lovingly  detailed  scenes  set  against  a  colorful  and  complex 
background. 

If  the  number  of  novels  was  scant  this  year,  not  so  the  number  of 
good,  and  in  some  cases,  outstandii^  novelettes.  There  was  A.  E.  van 
Vogt’s  “The  Changeling”  which  appeared  in  April  and  which  was  proba¬ 
bly  one  of  his  first  Important  stories  revolving  around  a  character 
with  remarkable,  une:iplained  powers  gradually  realized,  who  is  im¬ 
pelled  into  action  for  unknown  reasons  and  by  forces  of  which  he  has 
no  knowledge.  It  was  a  taut  story  told  with  van  Vogt’s  blend  of  action 
and  bewildering  complexity,  but  certainly  not  one  of  his  classics. 
Fredric  Brown’s  “Arena”  in  the  June  issue  took  up  the  problem  of 
Earth’s  space  forces  facing  an  impending  clash  with  an  invading  fleet 
of  extra-galactic  “Outsiders”  who  threaten  to  destroy  man  totally  and 
take  over  this  galaxy.  At  the  intercession  of  a  dispassionate  and  dis¬ 
embodied  entity  who  wishes  to  prevent  either  side  from  enj03dng  a 
pyrrhic  victory  because  of  the  evenly  balanced  nature  of  the  confront¬ 
ing  forces,  and  who  at  the  same  time  insists  that  one  side  must  totally 
destroy  the  other  to  insure  the  proper  development  of  the  remaining 
culture,  a  champion  is  chosen  from  each  side  by  this  entity  and  placed 
in  an  “arena”  on  a  barren  planet  in  another  space-time  continuum, 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  131 

there  to  decide  by  single  mortal  combat  which  side  will  prevail  over 
the  other.  The  idea  of  an  inter-galactic  war  being  settled  by  single 
combat  in  the  old  chivalric  tradition  is  an  interesting  one  and  Brown 
handled  it  quite  well,  notably  in  the  combat  scenes,  and  his  handling  of 
the  alien  champion  was  exceptionally  well  done. 

One  of  the  feature  attractions  of  the  year  was  the  presence  in  the 
August  issue  of  another  of  Isaac  Asimov’s  “Foundation”  stories,  ‘The 
Big  and  the  Little.”  This  was  the  third  of  Hari  Seldon’s  “crises,” 
which  found  the  planet  Terminus  and  the  Foundation  maintaining  a 
precarious  existence  on  the  Rim  of  the  dying  Empire,  forced  to  protect 
itself  against  the  Korellian  Republic,  a  cluster  of  some  half-dozen 
stellar  systems  and  a  republic  in  name  only.  The  Korellian  Republic 
is  aided  by  the  Empire  in  the  form  of  massive  space  ships  and  massive 
atomic  generators,  and  feels  confident  in  being  able  to  destroy  the 
Foundation  planet  with  its  greater  might.  Against  this  power  the 
Foundation  pits  its  own  atomic  technology  which  is  based  on  minia¬ 
turization,  and  the  shrewdness  of  master  trader  Hober  Mallow  of 
Smyrno,  an  Outlander  who  eventually  becomes  mayor  and  in  the  end 
defeats  the  Korellian  Republic,  beginning,  as  a  result,  a  reign  of 
plutocracy  backed  by  traders  and  money  barons.  A  fine  story  in  a 
continuing  series  that  would  become  a  science  fiction  classic. 

Less  cosmically  scaled  than  Asimov’s  novelette  was  C.  L.  Moore’s 
superb  classic,  “No  Woman  Bom.”  Although  the  plot  was  not  new  (a 
human  being,  horribly  mangled  or  disfigured  by  some  catastrophe,  is 
given  new  life  with  a  metal  body).  Miss  Moore  relates  the  story  of  the 
lovely  dancer,  Deirdre  (hopelessly  disfigured  in  a  fire,  she  is  given  a 
body  of  metal  and  goes  on  to  remount  the  heights  as  a  dancer)  with 
such  insight  into  character  and  an  understanding  of  the  drives  that 
motivate  an  artist  that  any  lack  of  originality  of  plot  was  of  no  im¬ 
portance.  The  almost  poetic  prose  that  one  had  long  ago  come  to 
associate  with  Miss  Moore  was  an  important  factor  in  elevating  this 
story  to  the  level  of  greatness  it  so  rightly  deserves. 

November  was  distinguished  by  two  outstanding  novelettes.  The  first 
of  these,  “When  the  Bough  Breaks,”  by  Lewis  Padgett,  could  be  con¬ 
sidered  a  companion  piece  to  the  same  author’s  earlier  “Mimsy  Were 
the  Borogoves.”  Alexander  is  a  normal  eighteen-month-old  son  of  a 
normal  couple  until  four  gnome-like  characters  present  themselves 
and  announce  that  they  are  from  five  hundred  years  in  the  future  where 
it  seems  this  same  Alexander  is  still  alive,  the  first  of  a  new  race  of 
homo  superior.  The  gnome-like  characters  are  here  at  the  future 
Alexander’s  instructions  to  give  the  infant  Alexander  advanced  training 
so  he  can  get  a  head  start  on  the  future,  and  the  results  of  this  training 
are  tragic  and  catastrophic. 

The  second  novelette  was  the  classic  “Killdozer!”  by  Theodore 
Sturgeon.  Sturgeon’s  last  story  in  ^tounding  had  been  “Medusa,”  a 
less  than  memorable  short  in  the  February,  1942  issue.  “Killdozer  1” 
was  up  to  the  par  of  his  classic  1941  novelette,  “Microcosmic  God,” 
and  is,  perhaps,  his  greatest  story  of  his  early  period  of  science  fiction 


ALVA  ROGERS 


writing.  (“It,”  from  Unknown,  was  the  greatest  thing  he  ever  wrote, 
including  More  Than  Human,  Farrar,  Straus  and  Young,  1953,  but  this 
little  gem  was  an  out-and-out  horror  story  and  it  isn’t  fair  to  compare 
his  science  fiction  writings  with  it.) 

In  its  own  way,  “Killdozerl ,”  the  story  of  a  giant  bulldozer  on  a 
Pacific  atoll  during  World  War  n  that  is  brought  to  terrifying  life  by  a 
malevolent  alien  intelligence— raising  merry  hell  in  the  process— is 
as  much  a  horror  story  as  “It.”  The  picture  of  an  utilitarian  piece  of 
machinery  such  as  a  bulldozer,  without  human  guidance  operating  with 
deadly  purpose,  was  very  unsettling,  to  say  the  least. 

Clifford  D.  Simak,  one  of  the  best  craftsmen  in  the  science  fiction 
field  and  one  of  the  handful  of  old  pro’s  who  had  smoothly  managed  the 
transition  from  the  thud  and  blunder  of  the  thirties  to  Camptellian  science 
fiction  of  the  middle  forties,  began  in  May  a  series  that  would  eventually 
bring  him  “The  International  Fantasy  Award”  when  all  the  stories  in 
the  series  were  combined  into  a  book.  The  story,  of  course,  was 
“City,”  which  told,  from  the  viewpoint  of  the  Webster  family,  of  the 
breakup  of  the  urban  complex  and  the  return  to  a  more  pastoral  exist¬ 
ence  brought  about  by  automation,  inexpensive  and  fast  transportation, 
etc.  This  novelette  was  quickly  followed  by  “Huddling  Place,”  a  short 
in  the  July  issue  and  “Census,”  the  cover  story  for  September.  “Hud¬ 
dling  Place”  examined  the  phenomenon  of  man,  served  by  robots,  sur¬ 
rounded  by  labor-saving  devices  and  in  instant  face-to-face  communi¬ 
cation  with  any  point  in  the  world,  being  psychologically  unable  to  face 
the  prospect  of  leaving  his  home.  “Census”  was  concerned  with  the 
need  to  determine  the  probable  number  of  non-human  mutants  who 
could  take  over  and  keep  the  dreams  of  man  alive  when  man  eventually 
vanished  from  the  Earth.  The  dogs,  of  course,  were  the  ones  who 
woiild  fill  the  bill.  A  fine  series  that  deserved  every  bit  of  acclaim  it 
received. 

Perhaps  the  most  sensational  story  of  the  year  was  “Deadline,”  a 
novelette  in  the  March  issue  by  Cleve  Cartmill.  This  story  was  not 
sensational  literarily,  but  literally.  Briefly,  the  story  dealt  with  the 
development,  and  imminent  use  of  an  atomic  bomb  in  a  world  war  with 
probable  catastrophic  results,  and  the  efforts  of  an  intelligence  agent 
to  get  to  the  bomb  before  its  detonation  and  pull  its  teeth.  Not  a  par¬ 
ticularly  original  idea,  nor  a  story  that  excited  much  comment  from 
the  knowing  science  fiction  reader.  However,  it  did  excite  certain 
persons  in  government  circles  into  action  with  ludicrous  results. 
Campbell  has  published  his  version  of  the  affaire  Deadline,  and  I  think 
it  might  be  interesting  to  hear  Cartmill’s.  In  a  personal  latter,  he  had 
this  to  say: 

“Deadline,”  that  stinker,  came  about  when  John  Campbell  or 
I  suggested  to  one  or  the  other  that  I  do  a  yarn  about  an  atomic 
bomb.  I’m  not  sure  we  called  it  that  in  our  correspondence— 
we  were  thinking  in  terms  of  U-235  and  critical  mass.  Our 
correspondence  took  place  in  early  August,  1943 .  My  file  shows 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  133 

that  I  mailed  It  to  Astounding  Sept.  8,  received  the  check  Sept. 

20.  John  wasn’t  too  happy  with  the  story,  but  he  knew  I  was 
hungry. 

He  published  it  early  in  March,  1944  and  a  week  or  two  later 
a  Brooks-Brothered  yoimg  man  from  Military  Intelligence  came 
to  see  me  at  my  home  in  Manhattan  Beach.  We  spent  about  five 
or  six  hours  together,  mostly  in  my  answering  questions.  I 
had  the  file  of  Cartmill-Campbell  correspondence  about  the 
story,  and  he  borrowed  this  for  copying.  Upshot:  I  was  in  the 
clear,  but  violated  personal  security  which  every  American 
should  etc.,  etc.,  etc.  Just  how  I  violated  any  kind  of  security 
wasn’t  clear  then;  all  the  facts  contained  in  the  story  were 
matters  of  public  record. 

What  they  were  afraid  of  was  that  I— or  John— had  had  access 
one  way  or  another  to  information  supposedly  confined  to  the 
Manhattan  Project:  The  similarity  of  names:  Manhattan- 
Manhattan  Beach  were  purely  coincidental  and  half  a  continent 
apart. 

They  also  put  John  through  the  question  mill.  He  told  me  at 
our  first  meeting— Westercon,  LA— some  fifteen  years  after 
that  they  had  tried  to  extract  a  promise  that  he  would  publish 
nothing  more  concerning  nuclear  fission  and  he  told  them  to  go 
fly  their  atoms. 

Well,  the  various  stories  released  in  later  years  had  every¬ 
thing  from  the  FBI  to  foreign  spies  in  the  act.  But  I  saw  of 
Mata  Hari(s)  neither  hide  nor  hari,damnit.  (November  19, 1961) 

Campbell  was  immensely  pleased  by  the  furor  the  story  created  in 
Washington.  It  was  proof  positive  that  science  fiction,  particularly  the 
Astounding  brand,  was  important  enough  to  warrant  serious  scrutiny 
by  learned  heads  in  the  government,  and  by  inference  from  this  fact, 
by  others  in  the  scientific  community.  No  longer  did  science  fiction 
deal  with  childish  and  improbable  Buck  Rogers  adventures,  but  dealt 
instead,  in  many  instances,  with  serious  scientific  problems.  And 
most  fans  felt  pretty  much  the  same  pride  in  their  favorite  form  of 
literature  when  the  facts  concerning  “Deadline”  and  Astounding’s  in¬ 
volvement  with  atomic  bomb  security  became  known.  For  a  while  it 
was  a  devastating  weapon  used  in  refuting  any  sneering  aspersions  cast 
at  science  fiction  by  its  critics. 

At  this  point,  some  mention  should  be  made  of  the  department 
“Probability  Zero”  which  appeared  occasionally  from  April,  1942 
until  its  last  appearance  in  December,  1944.  The  department  was 
composed  of  short-shorts  (five  hundred  or  seven  himdred  and  fifty 
words)  which  were  science  fiction  stories  that  sounded  almost  possible, 
but  were  Impossible  by  reason  of  known  scientific  law  or  by  definition. 
Many  of  the  professionals  contributed  to  “Probability  Zero,”  as  well 
as  a  number  of  fans:  Bob  Tucker,  Harry  Warner,  Jr.,  Jack  Speer, 
Roscoe  E.  Wright,  Poul  Anderson.  It  was  kind  of  fun,  but  many  felt  that 


134 


ALVA  ROGERS 


the  space  could  have  been  better  utilized,  and  so  were  not  too  unhappy 
when  the  department  quietly  folded. 

Of  all  the  years  commonly  considered  Golden,  1944  was  the  least 
memorable;  the  outstanding  stories  that  were  published  only  pointed  up 
the  disappointing  quality  of  the  bulk  of  what  was  left.  In  some  respects, 
1944  can  be  regarded  as  a  bridge  between  two  peaks;  the  peak  1940  to 
1943,  and  the  peak  1945  to  1950.  At  any  rate,  the  slump  was  short  lived 
and  things  began  to  pick  ip  considerably  from  1945  on. 

This  was  one  of  the  good  years.  The  wealth  of  great  stories  published 
during  1945  more  than  made  up  for  the  small  number  in  the  preceding 
year.  The  outstanding  attraction  of  the  year  was  A.  E.  van  Vogt’s 
ambitious  novel  based  on  general  semantics,  “The  World  of  A.”  Pres¬ 
sing  it  for  top  honors  were  such  choice  items  as  Fritz  Leiber,  Jr.’s 
novel  “Destiny  Times  Three,”  the  first  novel  in  Isaac  Asimov’s 
“Foundation”  series,  “The  Mule,”  Murray  Leinster’s  memorable  novel¬ 
ette,  “First  Contact,”  and  the  “Baldy”  series  of  Lewis  Padgett. 

Also  included  for  discussion  in  this  year  is  Wesley  Long’s  (George 
O.  Smith)  three-part  novel,  “Nomad,”  which  began  in  the  December 
issue  of  1944,  This  was  a  long  novel,  and  although  perhaps  not  a  great 
one,  it  was  fast-moving,  fairly  complex,  and  engrossing.  Guy  Maynard, 
an  up-and-coming  junior  officer  in  the  Terran  Space  Patrol  gets  himself 
kidnapped  by  Martians,  rescued  by  Ertinians  (inhabitants  of  an  unde¬ 
tected  nomadic  planet  that  is  approaching  the  Solar  system,  human, 
and  possessors  of  scientific  knowledge  unknown  to  Earth  or  Mars), 
eventually  returns  to  Earth  and  from  there  experiences  a  succession 
of  adventures  that  ultimately  ends  with  his  assumption  of  the  role  of 
Emperor  of  the  Solar  system,  the  purpose  being  to  provide  a  focus  for 
the  hatred  of  the  three  planets  (Ertene  had  by  this  time  become  an 
addition  to  the  Solar  system)  which  would  relieve  the  pressures  lead¬ 
ing  to  wars  between  the  three,  and  eventually  lead  to  greater  coopera¬ 
tion  and  true  peace  between  them.  Long  handled  this  story  well,  peopled 
it  with  reasonably  believable  characters,  and  enough  high  adventure 
and  flashing  space  battles  to  please  almost  anyone. 

“The  Mixed  Men”  by  van  Vogt,  the  cover  story  for  January,  was  the 
concluding  story  in  the  “Dellian  Robot”  series  which  included  “Con¬ 
cealment”  (October,  1943)  and  “The  Storm”  (November,  1943)  and 
concerned  the  efforts  of  Captain  Maltby,  hereditary  leader  of  the  Mixed 
Men,  to  resolve  the  differences  between  the  Dellian  robots,  the  non- 
Dellians,  and  Earth.  This  was  the  best  of  the  series,  with  a  fine  blend 
of  van-Vogtian  action,  color,  and  wheels- within-wheels  intrigue. 

“Universe”  by  Heinlein  is  undisputably  the  greatest  of  the  universe 
within  a  space  ship  theme  stories,  but  a  story  by  a  relatively  new 
author  in  the  October  issue,  “Giant  Killer”  by  A.  Bertram  Chandler, 
succeeded  quite  admirably  in  holding  its  own  with  it.  Chandler  took 
the  essence  of  the  “Universe”  idea,  i.e.,  a  mutated  race  growing  up 
within  the  confines  of  the  ship  and  unaware  of  any  other  world  but  the 
world  of  the  ship,  gave  it  a  nice  twist,  embellished  it  with  some  ex- 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


May,  1945;  the  “First  Contact”  painting  by  Timmins. 


ALVA  ROGERS 


cellent  writing,  and  came  up  with  a  near  perfect  story.  The  giant  killer 
was  Shriek,  the  shrewd,  fearless  leader  of  the  People,  and  the  implaca¬ 
ble  hunter  and  destroyer  of  the  Giants,  those  monstrous  creatures  who 
inhabit  the  Inner  World  and  threatened  the  very  existence  of  all  the 
People.  The  giants  obviously  were  the  crew  of  the  space  ship,  and 
the  People,  it  developed,  were  highly  intelligent  mutated  rats.  Chandler 
presented  the  People  with  such  sympathy  and  understanding  that  one 
couldn’t  help  rooting  for  them  as  they  fought  the  giants  for  the  right  to 
live  and  grow.  A  wonderful  story. 

The  problems  confronting  a  star  ship’s  commander  when  he  meets 
for  the  first  time  an  alien  ship  deep  in  interstellar  space  is  one  that 
has  been  dealt  with  in  a  dozen  different  ways  by  a  dozen  different 
authors.  One  of  the  best  is  Murray  Leinster’s  “First  Contact,”  the 
featured  novelette  in  the  May  issue  and  the  subject  of  what  was  perhaps 
Timmins’  best  cover  of  the  year.  The  space  ship  Llanvabon  was  on  an 
exploring  mission  into  the  Crab  Nebula  where  it  discovered  a  large 
black  ship  also  on  the  same  mission,  but  not  from  Earth.  After  the 
initial  palaver  was  out  of  the  way  and  it  was  realized  that  each  side 
genuinely  liked  the  other  as  individuals,  the  doubt  remained  as  to 
whether  either  side  could  trust  the  other  as  representatives  of  their 
government.  If  one  ship  were  to  leave  first,  wouldn’t  the  other  feel 
boimd  by  duty  and  a  sense  of  security  to  follow  it  to  its  home  planet? 
The  only  solution,  it  seemed  to  both  captains,  was  to  fight;  the  winner 
thereby  protecting  the  secret  of  the  location  of  his  home  planet.  This 
really  appealed  to  no  one,  but  there  seemed  no  alternative  until  Tommy 
Dort,  the  navigator  of  the  Llanvabon,  came  up  with  the  solution,  why 
not  swap  ships  after  first  removing  all  star  maps  and  records  that 
might  give  a  clue  to  the  ship’s  home  planet?  This  met  with  instant 
approval,  and,  after  a  few  additional  points  were  agreed  upon,  the  swap 
was  made  and  both  sides  departed  for  home,  each  richer  than  when 
they  started  by  the  possession  of  the  other’s  ship  and  its  contents,  and 
happy  that  an  unique  and  sensitive  problem  had  been  disposed  of  in  a 
civilized  and  intelligent  manner. 

An  interesting  feature  in  this  same  issue  was  an  article  by  Willy 
Ley  entitled  “V2— Rocket  Cargo  Ship”  in  which  he  told  what  informa¬ 
tion  was  available  at  that  time  on  the  V2,  plus  his  first-hand  knowledge 
of  German  rocket  scientists  and  experimenters,  and  came  up  with 
some  intriguing  speculations  on  the  development  of  Peenemunde,  V2 
rocket  fuel,  and  the  immediate  future  of  the  V2  after  the  war. 

The  four  “Baldy”  stories  of  Lewis  Padgett  which  appeared  in  1945 
were  among  the  high  points  of  the  year.  The  Baldies  were  human  mu¬ 
tations  resulting  from  radiation  exposure  during  an  atomic  war,  who 
were  able  to  breed  true,  and  were  distinguished  from  man  in  general 
by  a  total  lack  of  hair  and  the  possession  of  ESP.  The  Baldies  were 
faced  with  two  problems,  both  critical:  maintaining  a  precarious,  at 
the  most,  acceptance  by  non-telepathic  society;  working,  creating,  and 
raising  families  in  that  society.  And  secondly,  fighting  a  desperate, 
hidden  battle  with  the  Paranoids,  those  Baldies  who  felt  they  were 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  137 

homo  superior  and  thereby  entitled  to  dominate  and  rule  over  non¬ 
telepathic  man.  The  history  of  the  Baldies  was  told  in  five  smoothly 
written,  sophisticated  and  action-packed  novelettes:  ‘The  Piper’s  Son” 
(February),  “Three  Blind  Mice”  (June),  “The  Lion  and  the  Unicorn” 
(July),  “Beggars  in  Velvet”  (December),  and  finally,  “Humpty  Dumpty” 
(September,  1953).  (Published  as  Mutant  by  Gnome  Press,  1953.) 

Two  of  the  most  important  contributions  to  the  “Foundation”  series 
were  presented  by  Isaac  Asimov  this  year;  a  long  novelette  in  April, 
“Dead  Hand,”  and  a  two-part  serial,  “The  Mule,”  in  the  November  and 
December  issues.  In  the  former,  the  Foimdation  (in  spite  of  weak  and 
ineffectual  leaders)  wins  out  over  a  still  powerful  Empire  ruled  over 
by  a  shrewd  and  ruthless  Emperor,  and  the  Empire’s  most  brilliant 
and  dangerous  general  who  leads  the  attack  on  the  Foundation.  It  is 
obvious  to  the  leaders  of  the  Foundation,  at  the  conclusion  of  hostilities, 
that  the  Foimdation  has  built-in  safeguards  that  protect  it  from  any 
external  danger,  except  possibly  (at  some  far  date)  from  the  Second 
Foundation  “at  the  other  end  of  the  galaxy,”  or  from  internal  enemies. 

In  “The  Mule”  Asimov  introduces  a  threat  to  the  Foimdation  that  is 
neither  of  these,  a  threat  which  was  unforeseen  by  Harl  Seldon,  and 
which  shows  every  prospect  of  walloping  the  daylights  out  of  the  Founda¬ 
tion.  This  threat  was  the  Mule,  a  mutant,  an  unknown  who  becomes  a 
great  leader  and  military  genius  with  a  vision  of  dominating  the  galaxy. 
This  novel  formed  the  central  part  of  the  “Foundation”  saga;  up  to  this 
point  the  Foundation  was  concerned  primarily  with  fighting  off  threats 
to  its  continued  existence  with  not  too  much  thought  given  to  the  Second 
Foundation.  But  from  now  on  the  problem  of  what  to  do  about  the 
Second  Foundation,  and  efforts  to  locate  it,  would  be  paramount. 

Fritz  Leiber,  Jr.,  who  scored  a  tremendous  triumph  with  his  classic 
1943  novel,  “Gather,  Darkness!,”  was  less  successful  with  his  second 
novel  for  Astounding,  “Destiny  Times  Three,”  a  two-part  serial 
beginning  in  March.  This  was  a  complex  and  involved  story  of  three 
alternate  worlds  and  the  intertwined  destinies  of  their  inhabitants  and 
the  dangers  inherent  in  playing  around  with  time-probability.  This 
was  a  very  fine  story,  written  by  a  master,  but  not  up  to  the  master’s 
first  great  classic. 

The  most  momentous  event  of  1945  was  the  publication  of  A.  E.  van 
Vogt’s  one  hundred  thousand  word  classic,  “World  of  5”  in  the  August, 
September,  and  October  issues.  From  the  first  few  paragraphs  in 
which  Gilbert  Gosseyn  is  found  participating  in  the  games  of  the  Game 
Machine,  throi^h  his  death  and  rejuvenation,  to  the  stunning  climax 
when  Gosseyn  finds  out  what  the  hell  it’s  aU  about,  the  magazine  was 
almost  impossible  to  put  down.  Van  Vogt  is  probably  unequaled  by  any 
other  science  fiction  writer  in  the  use  of  the  narrative  hook,  and  this 
novel  was  a  prime  example  of  his  skill.  Also,  his  use  of  general 
semantics  as  the  underlying  theme  contributed  greatly  to  the  general 
interest.  Many  fans  around  this  time  were  disciples  of  Korzybski, 
and  a  reading  acquaintance  with  and  possession  of  Science  and  Sanity 
amounted  almost  to  a  status  symbol;  consequently,  some  of  the  discus- 


138 


ALVA  ROGERS 


sions  stimulated  by  van  Vogt’s  projection  of  general  semantics  into  the 
future  tended  to  get  a  little  heated. 

In  July  a  one-page  “In  Memoriam*  announced  the  sad  fact  that 
Malcolm  Jameson  had  died  on  April  16,  at  the  age  of  54,  of  cancer  of 
the  throat.  Jameson  had  been,  since  the  appearance  of  his  first  story 
in  1938,  one  of  the  most  reliable  of  Campbell’s  stable  of  writers. 
Although  he  wasn’t  in  the  same  class  with  Heinlein,  van  Vogt,  Leiber, 
Sturgeon,  Simak,  Kuttner,  et  al,  he  wrote  the  type  of  good,  readable 
fiction  that  forms  the  backbone  of  any  good  magazine .  Possibly  the 
best  thing  he  ever  wrote,  at  any  rate  the  most  popular,  was  “Admiral’s 
Inspection,”  in  the  April,  1940  issue,  the  first  of  the  “Bullard  of  the 
Space  Patrol”  series.  His  most  ambitious  effort  had  been  a  three-part 
novel  in  Astonishing  (October,  December,  1940,  February,  1941), 
“Quicksands  of  Youthwardness,”  a  forgotten  minor  classic  today. 
Malcolm  Jameson  would  be  missed. 

The  science  fiction  nut  came  into  his  own  with  the  dropping  of  the 
atomic  bomb  which  ended  the  war  in  August.  As  Campbell  said  in  his 
editorial  for  November,  “The  science-fictioneers  were  suddenly 
recognized  by  their  neighbors  as  not  quite  such  wild-eyed  dreamers 
as  they  had  been  thought,  and  in  many  soul- satisfying  cases  became 
the  neighborhood  experts.”  In  December,  Campbell  printed  a  long 
excerpt  from  the  Smyth  Report,  “The  Making  of  the  Bomb,”  which 
dealt  with  the  last  stages  of  the  problem  of  producing  the  atomic  bomb. 
In  the  editor’s  blurb  he  pointed  out  that  the  essential  principles  em¬ 
ployed  in  the  bomb  were  described  as  the  arming  mechanism  of  the 
atomic  bomb  in  Cartmlll’s  “Deadline,”  which  was  what  caused  the 
security  flap  when  the  story  was  published  a  year  and  a  half  earlier. 

As  was  to  be  expected,  the  December  “Brass  Tacks”  was  devoted 
almost  entirely  to  letters  about  the  bomb  and  atomic  energy.  And,  as 
was  also  ejected,  Campbell  got  a  bit  carried  away  in  his  predictions 
in  answering  a  couple  of  letters:  To  one  letter  writer  who  thought^ 
“We’ll  be  on  the  moon  before  1960,”  he  replied:  “Personally,  I  think 
you  are  over  conservative.  I’d  say  we  should  reach  the  moon  by  1950.” 
To  another,  he  said:  “First  sale  of  ^tounding  on  the  moon  by  1955, 
I’m  betting!”  Also  in  “Brass  Tacks”  was  a  letter  from  Theodore 
Sturgeon  in  the  form  of  a  Norman  Corwin  style  dialogue  entitled 
“August  Sixth  1945,”  which  asked  the  questions,  “Who  buys  this  crap?,” 
“Who  writes  this  crap?,”  “Why  do  you  read  this  crap?,”  and  answers 
them  in  heroic  measure.  It’s  rather  pretentious,  but  really  not  bad  when 
you  consider  the  heady  excitement  the  science  fiction  editor,  writer, 
and  fan  was  experiencing  in  those  first  days  following  the  disclosure 
that  man  had  finally  unleashed  atomic  energy. 

1946  got  off  to  a  good  start  with  the  first  installment  in  January  of 
Lewis  Padgett’s  two-part  serial  “The  Fairy  Chessmen,”  which  pre¬ 
sented  a  picture  of  America,  dug  into  underground  cities  protected  by 
force  shields,  in  a  long-stalemated  war  with  the  Falangists,  a  European 
nation.  The  Falangists  had  at  long  last  developed  a  bomb  that  could 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOtRTOING  139 

penetrate  the  force-shield,  and  it  was  essential  that  American  techni¬ 
cians  solve  the  equation  that  gave  the  bombs  their  special  properties. 
These  technicians  were  all  trained  along  orthodox  lines,  but  the  equation 
they  were  trying  to  solve  was  based  on  variable  truth,  and  this  eventually 
drove  any  technician  attempting  to  solve  the  equation  insane.  This  is 
just  the  beginning  of  a  fascinating  novel  that  deals  with  war,  time, 
psychometrics  and  fairy  chess,  told  in  the  smooth,  mature  style  that 
was  the  Padgett  trademark. 

Occasional  references  have  been  made  to  stories  that  have  had 
memorable  last  lines;  lines  that  are  remembered  and  repeated  for 
years  after  their  first  appearance.  The  number  of  memorable  opening 
lines  are  not  so  numerous,  but  there  are  a  few,  the  most  notable 
being  the  first  line  to  “The  Fairy  Chessmen.”  I  doubt  if  there  are 
many  fans  who  will  ever  forget  that  first  line;  “The  doorknob  opened 
a  blue  eye  and  looked  at  him.”  Beautiful! 

Appearing  also  in  the  January  issue  was  Philip  Latham’s  (a  pseudo¬ 
nym  of  R.  S.  Richardson)  classic  short  story,  “N  Day,”  which  gave  a 
chillingly  believable  account  of  the  end  of  the  world  on  January  29, 1949. 

A.  E.  van  Vogt  was  on  hand  with  another  serial  this  year,  “The 
Chronicler,”  in  two  parts  beginning  in  October,  a  story  of  a  man  with 
three  eyes  in  his  skull  and  the  strange  world  this  additional  eye  allows 
him  to  enter.  This  was  an  improbable,  nightmarish  story;  a  story  that 
one  felt  only  van  Vogt  could  pull  off.  In  May,  a  short  story  by  van  Vogt 
served  as  the  introduction  of  a  new  series  that  was  to  become  one  of 
his  most  popular.  The  story  was  “A  Son  is  Bom,”  the  first  in  the 
“Clane”  series.  This  was  followed  by  “Child  of  the  Gods,”  a  novelette, 
in  August,  and  by  another  novelette,  “Home  of  the  Gods,”  in  December. 
This  series  told  of  an  age  where  atomic  energy  was  old,  but  science 
forgotten,  remembered  only  in  religious  ritual.  Clane,  a  son  of  the 
ruling  house  of  Linn,  was  a  mutant  as  a  result  of  his  mother’s  exposure 
to  atomic  radiation  in  the  temple,  and  is  hidden  away  and  held  in  con¬ 
tempt  by  nearly  everyone.  The  general  parallel  between  Clane’s  de¬ 
velopment  and  rise  to  power  and  that  of  the  Roman  Emperor,  Claudius, 
was  apparent  to  anyone  familiar  with  Roman  history  or  who  had  read 
Robert  Graves’  “Claudius”  novels;  but  this  fact  didn’t  in  the  least 
detract  from  the  series’  interest. 

In  July  of  1946,  the  4th  World  Science  Fiction  Convention  was  held 
in  Los  Angeles.  The  3rd  World  Convention  had  be^n  held  in  Denver  in 
1941  and  the  fourth  was  scheduled  for  1942  in  Los  Angeles  but,  with 
the  onset  of  the  war,  the  convention  was  cancelled  until  after  the  dura¬ 
tion.  With  the  return  of  peace,  the  convention  machinery  was  reacti¬ 
vated  and  the  4th  World  Convention  was  finally  held  over  the  Fourth  of 
July  weekend  with  A.  E.  van  Vogt  and  E.  Mayne  Hull  (Mrs.  van  Vogt) 
as  dual  Guests  of  Honor. 

There  were  two  other  novels  published  this  year,  neither  of  which 
was  particularly  memorable.  The  first  was  a  three-part  serial  begin¬ 
ning  in  March,  “Pattern  for  Conquest”  by  George  O.  Smith,  a  fast- 
moving,  action-filled  novel  of  galactic  invasion.  A  competent,  readable 


140 


ALVA  ROGERS 


novel,  but  not  on  the  same  level  as  his  earlier  novel,  “Nomad.”  The 
second  was  a  two-part  potboiler  by  old-timer  Arthur  Leo  Zagat  start¬ 
ing  in  August  called  “Slaves  of  the  Lamp,”  about  a  future  of  city  states 
wherein  peace  is  maintained  by  means  of  “Hoskins  Lamps”  which 
record  the  emotional  content  of  the  various  city  states  and  indicate 
any  imbalance  in  that  content  which  might  be  a  potential  threat  to  peace . 

The  story  of  Simak’s  “Webster  Family,”  which  began  with  “City”  in 
1944,  was  taken  up  again  in  “Paradise,”  a  short  story  in  June,  which 
told  of  a  strange  and  wonderful  life  available  to  man  on  the  planet 
Jupiter,  if  men  were  willing  to  relinquish  their  human  identities,  and 
continued  with  “Hobbies,”  a  novelette  in  November,  which  was  about 
the  twilight  of  man’s  existence  on  Earth,  with  aU  the  cities  but  one 
deserted,  and  the  dogs  and  robots  about  to  come  into  their  own  as 
masters  of  the  Earth. 

In  April,  a  short  story  about  a  short-lived  war  between  Earth  and 
Mars  called  “Loophole”  served  as  a  rather  inauspicious  introduction 
of  one  Arthur  C.  Clarke  to  the  science  fiction  field.  This  was  followed 
the  next  month  by  a  much  better  story,  a  novelette  entitled  “Rescue 
Party,”  a  taut  account  of  the  efforts  of  the  Galactic  Union  to  rescue  the 
doomed  inhabitants  of  Earth,  whose  sun  is  soon  to  go  nova,  only  to 
discover  after  a  fruitless  search  of  the  planet  that  the  primitive  race 
inhabiting  the  planet  had  dared  to  launch  a  vast  rocket -powered  fleet 
into  space  on  a  centuries  long  migration  to  the  stars.  This  was  a 
powerful  story  that  remains  one  of  the  best  of  Clarke’s  many  fine 
contributions  to  the  genre. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  articles  ever  printed  in  Astounding  was 
“Meihem  in  CeKlasrum”  by  Dolton  Edwards.  This  was  an  amusing  and 
relentlessly  logical  exposition  of  how  the  English  language  could  be 
improved  by  a  gradual  and  systematic  simplification  of  its  spelling. 
This  fine  article  appeared  in  the  September  issue,  the  issue  that  featured 
RajTnond  F.  Jones’  “The  Toymaker”  on  the  cover;  the  story  of  the 
Toymaker  who  made  the  shapeless  toys  called  Imagines,  wonderful 
toys  that  delighted  children,  but  puzzled  adults,  and  proved  to  be 
supremely  important  in  the  cause  of  peace.  Also  in  this  same  issue 
was  one  of  C.  L.  Moore’s  finest  stories,  “Vintage  Season,”  with  the 
by-line  of  Lawrence  O’Donnell,  a  powerful  tale  of  an  old  house  that 
had  a  strange  and  compelling  attraction  for  two  exotic  groups  of 
people  who  vied  with  each  other  to  gain  possession  of  it  during  the 
vintage  season  of  May. 

“Special  Knowledge,”  by  A.  Bertram  Chandler,  the  cover  story  for 
February,  was  a  long  (72  pages)  novelette  about  a  switch  in  personali¬ 
ties,  and  time,  between  a  science  fiction  writer-merchant  marine  officer 
on  leave  in  England  after  a  convoy  run  from  New  York  during  World 
War  II,  and  the  second  officer  of  the  space  liner  Martian  Maid,  which 
had  blown  an  engine  and  was  drifting  out  of  control  toward  unexplored 
Venus.  The  special  knowledge  possessed  by  George  Whitley,  the 
Englishman,  came  in  right  handy  after  the  space  ship  crash-landed  on 
the  watery  world  of  Venus.  Chandler’s  first-hand  knowledge  of  ships 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  141 

and  the  problems  encountered  during  a  disaster  was  obvious  and  well 
told,  and  added  greatly  to  the  interest  of  the  story.  Chandler,  like 
Jameson  and  Heinlein,  was  adept  in  translating  the  atmosphere  and 
roxitines  of  modem  ships  into  space  ships  of  the  future. 

Eric  Frank  Russell’s  very  fine  novelette,  “Metamorphosite,”  which 
depicted  the  changes  that  might  be  expected  in  man’s  physical  structure, 
and  also  in  his  attitudes  toward  empires  and  non-humans  over  a  span 
of  millennia,  was  featured  on  the  cover  of  the  December  issue. 

Theodore  Sturgeon,  an  infrequent  contributor  of  late,  claimed  the 
cover  of  the  November  issue  with  "Mewhu's  Jet,”  a  novelette  about  a 
quaint  little  character  from  some  far  off  solar  system  stranded  on 
present-day  Earth,  and  the  childlike  trust  and  faith  he  had  in  his  new¬ 
found  friends.  And  finally,  Hal  Clement’s  “Cold  Front,”  a  story  of  the 
application  of  advanced  meteorology  coupled  with  trade  in  the  opening 
up  of  new  frontiers  in  space,  was  the  cover  story  for  July,  and  with 
Clement’s  novelette  as  a  capper  this  just  about  covers  what  was  the 
best  of  a  better  than  average  year.  This  was  Year  I  of  the  Atomic  Age, 
and  this  fact  was  beginning  to  be  reflected  in  a  few  stories  which  at¬ 
tempted  to  probe  some  of  the  problems  confronting  man  in  the  near 
future;  one  of  the  dominant  themes  of  the  next  few  years  in  Astounding. 

There  were  three  notable  changes  this  year  in  the  outward  appearance 
of  the  magazine  that  marked  a  departure  from  the  past.  The  first 
change  occurred  in  August,  and  was  a  relatively  slight  one,  a  change  in 
the  cover  logo  in  which  Astounding  was  reduced  to  half  its  former  size, 
with  the  familiar  Science-Fiction  becoming  more  prominent.  Over 
the  next  two  months  the  Astounding  was  reduced  even  further  and  then 
in  November  the  logo  took  the  form  it  was  to  retain  until  January, 
1953;  a  very  small  Astounding  in  the  upper  left  corner  and  SCIENCE 
FICTION  in  large  block  letters  beneath  it,  the  full  width  of  the  cover. 

The  third  change  was  a  change  in  cover  artists.  On  the  December 
cover  the  work  of  a  new  artist  appeared,  the  first  in  four  years.  His 
name  was  Alejandro,  an  artist  who  was  very  popular  with  many  fans, 
but  one  who  failed  to  Impress  many  others  with  his  symbolical  covers. 
William  Timmins  had  been  the  cover  artist  for  every  issue  (except  for 
July,  1944  and  July,  1945)  of  Astounding  from  December,  1942  until 
November,  1946.  Wesso,  who  did  all  the  Clayton  covers,  plus  a  few  in 
the  late  thirties,  had  a  total  of  41.  Brown,  with  most  of  the  covers  from 
October,  1933  through  1938,  had  a  total  of  53.  Hubert  Rogers  had  only 
33  from  his  first  of  February,  1939  until  his  last  to  date,  of  August, 
1942.  Timmins  had  48  with  his  November,  1946  cover,  and  by  the  time 
his  last  appeared  in  1950  he  had  painted  53 covers;  exactly  the  same  as 
Howard  Brown  and  exceeded  only  by  Hubert  Rogers  in  final  total.  This 
is  remarkable,  because  of  the  four  artists  primarily  identified  as 
Astounding  cover  artists  in  the  sixteen  years  of  its  existence,  Timmins 
was  most  certainly  the  least  distinguished  as  a  science  fiction  artist. 
He  was  a  competent  artist,  but  a  very  mediocre  science  fiction  artist 
who  contributed  nothing  really  outstanding  to  the  memorabilia  of 
Astounding’s  past. 


CHAPTER  XI 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE  TURNS  TO  SILVER:  1947 


Harry  Warner,  a  prominent  fan  of  many  years’  standii^, 
has  stated  with  considerable  perception  that  he  regards 
Astounding  of  1946  as  marking  the  beginning  of  the  Silver 
Age,  the  period  that  developed  out  of  the  Golden  Age.  Per¬ 
haps.  I  have  the  feeling,  however,  that  1947  is  the  key  year 
marking  the  beginning  of  this  phase,  and  my  reasons  for  thinking  so 
will  be  gone  into  in  greater  detail  at  the  end  of  this  chapter. 

Lewis  Padgett  started  off  the  year  with  the  first  part  of  a  two-part 
serial,  “Tomorrow  and  Tomorrow,”  which  presented  a  rather  grim 
picture  of  the  world  in  the  year  2051,  a  world  controlled  by  the  GPC 
(Global  Peace  Commission)  which  had  taken  over  following  the  short¬ 
lived  World  War  HI  and  still  controlled  the  world’s  atomic  energy,  and 
attempted  to  maintain  world  peace  by  enforcing  a  strict  status  quo, 
limiting  original  research,  etc .  The  only  way  to  break  loose  from  the 
strictures  of  the  status  quo,  it  seems  to  a  dedicated  xmderground,  is 
to  detonate  Uranium  Pile  No.  One  which  is  buried  deep  in  the  heart  of 
the  great  sunken  ziggurat  under  a  Pacific  island,  thus  creating  the 
chaos  (or  even  war)  that  would  shatter  the  power  of  the  GPC  and  re¬ 
lease  man  from  stasis,  allowing  progress  to  once  more  take  over. 
Figuring  significantly  in  this  excellent  story  were  mutants,  alternate 
worlds,  and  a  host  of  other  details,  including  a  real  pxmch  ending,  that 
added  up  to  one  of  the  better  stories  in  the  “what  will  the  world  be  like 
after  Hiroshima?”  school. 

The  cover  was  once  again  by  Timmins,  the  first  of  the  three  he 
would  have  this  year,  and  also  in  the  art  department  was  the  welcome 
return  of  Edd  Cartier,  the  inimitable  illustrator  of  so  many  Unknown 
stories  who  had  been  absent  from  the  field  since  the  demise  of  that 
magazine. 

For  the  first  time  since  becoming  editor,  John  W.  Campbell,  Jr.’s 
name  appeared  on  the  cover  as  an  author.  Not  as  the  author  of  a 


142 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  143 

story,  however,  but  of  an  article  in  the  February  issue;  “Atomic 
Power  Plant,”  an  investigation  of  how  an  atomic  power  plant  can  effi¬ 
ciently  use  all  its  waste  products  for  peaceful  purposes.  The  cover 
illustrating  Campbell’s  article  was  by  one  “Sniffen”;  honestly. 

The  most  important  item,  though,  in  this  issue  was  ‘Maturity,” 
Theodore  Sturgeon’s  novelette  about  Robin  English  who,  through  a 
series  of  injections,  is  accelerated  toward  maturity,  becomes  a  fabu¬ 
lously  gifted  and  productive  artist,  and  in  the  end  discovers  what  true 
maturity  means.  According  to  Sturgeon,  he  was  dissatisfied  with  the 
story  as  he  wrote  it  for  Astoimding,  and  virtually  rewrote  it  completely 
for  its  inclusion  in  his  first  hardcover  collection.  Without  Sorcery 
(Prime  Press,  1948). 

With  this  issue,  the  magazine  took  on  a  vastly  improved  appearance. 
The  bulky  type  pulp  that  had  been  used  for  years  gave  way  to  a  semi¬ 
slick  paper  that  reduced  the  thickness  of  the  magazine  almost  exactly 
by  half.  This  made  it  much  more  flexible  and  durable;  the  magazine 
could  be  opened  and  folded  back  without  fear  of  cracking  the  spine  and 
losing  half  the  pages.  It  also  allowed  for  a  much  better  quality  of 
illustration  reproduction,  as  evidenced  by  Orban’s  woodcut  style  draw¬ 
ings  in  this  issue. 

February  18,  1947  (the  day  the  March  issue  hit  the  stands)  dawned 
bright  and  beautiful  in  San  Diego,  California,  and  later  that  day,  as  I 
almost  ran  up  the  street  from  where  I  worked  to  the  drug  store,  it  was 
in  excited  anticipation.  The  reason  for  this  excitement  was  the 
knowledge  (as  announced  in  the  last  issue)  that  this  month’s  cover 
would  be  by  the  Master  himself;  Hubert  Rogers.  After  five  years  of 
relatively  mediocre  covers.  Astounding  was  once  more  to  blaze  forth 
in  its  old  glory  from  the  newsstands  with  a  Rogers  cover.  And  to 
compound  the  pleasure,  it  would  illustrate  a  novelette  by  another  old 
favorite  returning  after  many  years.  Jack  Williamson  with  “The 
Eqiaalizer.” 

Although  the  cover  was  not  one  of  Rogers’  best,  it  was  still  such  a 
welcome  sight,  and  so  far  superior  to  anything  by  Timmins,  that  all  1 
could  do  when  I  finally  laid  my  hands  on  a  copy  was  to  stand  there  and 
admire  it.  I  know  my  admiration  for  Hubert  Rogers  is  puzzling  to 
quite  a  number  of  people,  but  I  always  have,  and  always  will,  consider 
Rogers  the  best  cover  artist  that  ever  illustrated  science  fiction. 

Williamson’s  novelette  was  an  excellent  example  of  the  modem  type 
of  science  fiction  he’d  been  writing  before  the  war  caught  up  with  him; 
stories  like  “Breakdown,”  “Collision  Orbit,”  “Minus  Sign,”  and 
“Opposites — React!”  “The  Equalizer”  showed  how  a  small,  portable 
atomic  converter  which  could  transmute  almost  any  element  and  could 
be  put  in  the  hands  of  all  citizens  at  virtually  no  cost  would  make 
governments,  power  blocs,  and  their  cities  as  useless  as  tits  on  a 
boar  hog. 

The  second  novelette  in  this  issue  marked  the  first  appearance  in  a 
science  fiction  magazine  of  Poul  Anderson,  oneof  the  most  accomplish¬ 
ed  of  the  modern  authors  writing  in  the  field.  (To  forestall  any  argu- 


144 


ALVA  ROGERS 


ments,  his  actual  first  appearance  was  in  “Probability  Zero”  for 
September,  1944  with  “A  Matter  of  Relativity,”  but  “Probability  Zero” 
stories  by  fans,  and  Anderson  was  just  a  fan  at  that  time,  were  not 
true  professional  appearances.)  “Tomorrow’s  Children,”  written  in 
collaboration  with  F.N.  Waldrop,  was  concerned  with  the  genetic  effect 
of  radiation  and  fallout  on  the  survivors  of  the  next  war.  With  the 
United  States  and  the  rest  of  the  world  reduced  almost  to  anarchy,  a 
handftil  of  grimly  determined  men  constitute  themselves  the  de  facto 
government  of  the  United  States  and  attempt  to  restore  order  out  of 
the  chaos.  Hugh  Drummond,  a  colonel  in  the  Air  Force,  is  assigned  by 
General  Robinson,  the  Acting  President,  to  make  a  census  of  the  country 
and  attempt  to  determine  the  extent  of  mutations  in  babies  bom  in  the 
three  or  so  years  since  the  war  ended.  Drummond  finds  that  the  birth 
rate  is  a  little  over  half  that  of  pre-war,  and  that  about  seventy-five 
per  cent  of  all  births  are  mutant,  and  that  about  two-thirds  of  these 
are  viable  and  presumably  fertile;  because  of  the  high  level  of  contami¬ 
nation  of  the  atmosphere  and  the  Earth,  this  can  be  expected  to  be  the 
order  of  things  into  the  indefinite  future.  It  will  therefore  become 
necessary,  Driimmond  argued,  for  man  to  become  psychologically 
mature  and  to  regard  all  men  as  human  without  regard  to  their  apparent 
differences  inform.  This  was  a  surprisingly  forcefxil  and  mature  story 
for  one  as  yoxmg  as  was  Anderson  when  he  wrote  it;  altogether  an 
admirable  story  and,  for  a  first  effort,  even  more  so. 

The  third  story  of  note  in  this  issue  was  William  Tenn’s  second 
published  story,  “Child’s  Play.”  (His  first  had  been  “Alexander  the 
Bait,”  a  short  in  the  May,  1946  Astoimding.)  “Child’s  Play,”  the  story 
of  the  “Bild-A-Man”  set  that  arrived  on  Sam  Weber’s  doorstep  one 
morning  with  a  card  attached  saying  “Merry  Christmas,  2153”  started 
out  on  a  light  note,  but  ended  in  as  chilling  a  manner  as  possible.  Also 
in  this  issue  was  another  of  Isaac  Asimov’s  robot  stories,  “Little  Lost 
Robot”;  a  good  story,  but  a  lot  of  fans  were  wishing  Asimov  would 
write  more  “Foundation”  stories  instead  of  so  many  “Robot”  stories. 

Featured  on  the  cover  for  April  was  “Home  of  the  Gods,”  by  E.  A. 
(sic)  van  Vogt,  another  of  the  series  of  “Linn”  which  found  the  Lord 
Clane,  now  a  young  man  of  twenty-five,  figuring  decisively  in  the 
military  action  on  Venus.  The  transposition  of  van  Vogt’s  initials  on 
the  cover  would  have  gone  unnoticed  by  most  people  if  Campbell  hadn’t 
printed  a  small  notice  at  the  end  of  the  story  assuring  everyone  that 
van  Vogt  hadn’t  changed  his  name. 

A  first  story,  and  a  short  story  at  that,  accomplished  the  relatively 
rare  feat  of  taking  first  place  in  the  “Analytical  Laboratory”  for  this 
month.  “Time  and  Time  Again,”  by  H.  Beam  Piper  was  a  story  in 
which  Allan  Hartley,  chemist,  author  of  several  highly  successful 
novels,  and  currently  a  Captain  in  Chemical  Research,  is  severely 
wounded  during  the  siege  of  Buffalo  during  World  War  HI,  is  given  a 
heavy  narcotic  shot  for  his  pain,  goes  to  sleep  and  wakes  up  to  find  he 
has  returned  in  time  thirty  years  to  August  7,  1945,  and  is  occupying 
his  own  thirteen-year-old  body  with  all  of  his  adult  knowledge  intact. 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  145 

The  story  was  a  good  one,  but  I  remember  being  somewhat  surprised 
at  its  rating  in  the  “An  Lab,”  personally  favoring  “Home  of  the  Gods.” 
The  cover,  incidentally,  was  a  so-so  job  by  Timmins. 

The  May  cover  by  Rogers  is  possibly  one  of  the  very  finest  he  has 
ever  turned  out  for  Astoimding.  It  is  quietly  colorful,  beautifully  com¬ 
posed,  and  wonderfully  illustrative.  The  story  it  Illustrated  was 
Lawrence  O’DonneU’s  “Fury,”  the  Kuttners’  three-part  sequel  to  “Clash 
by  Night.”  The  story  takes  place  in  the  undersea  Keeps  of  Venus,  some 
years  after  the  events  related  in  “Clash  by  Night,”  and  revolves  around 
the  character  of  Sam  Reed,  who  is  actually  (although  he  is  unaware  of 
it)  Sam  Barker,  the  grandson  of  Zachariah  Barker  and  the  heir  of  the 
great  Barker  family.  Sam’s  mother  had  died  in  giving  birth  to  him, 
and  his  father.  Blaze  Barker,  in  blind,  insensate  hatred,  had  had  Sam 
endocrinologically  manipulated  so  that  when  he  grew  up  he  possessed 
none  of  the  physical  characteristics  of  the  Immortals  to  whom  he 
belonged. 

Sam  grew  up  a  stocky,  muscular,  ugly  man,  totally  bald;  he  was  wise 
in  the  ways  of  the  underworld.  Be  becomes  involved  with  the  Barker 
family  and  also  a  scheme  to  colonize  topside  on  Venus;  he  eventually 
becomes  top  dog  on  the  planet  only  to  be  overthrown  in  the  end,  but  not 
before  having  more  than  his  share  of  adventures.  This  is  one  of  the 
Kuttners’  finest  novels,  colorful,  intricately  plotted  and  with  excellent 
characterization. 

Sturgeon  was  back  with  another  fine  story,  “Tiny  and  the  Monster,” 
about  Tiny,  a  Great  Dane,  who  acted  as  an  intermediary  sensitive  be¬ 
tween  a  benign  “monstrous”  visitor  from  outer  space  who  was  strand¬ 
ed  on  Earth  with  a  vital  part  of  his  ship  broken  and  in  need  of  replace¬ 
ment,  and  a  girl  metallurgist  who  had  been  chosen  by  the  Monster  to 
design  the  gadget  it  needed. 

One  of  the  minor  classics  of  time  travel  appeared  in  this  issue,  “E 
for  Effort,”  by  a  new  writer,  T.  L.  Sherred.  A  device  is  invented  by 
an  ex-army  radar  technician  by  which  he  can  view  any  period  in  past 
time  anywhere  on  Earth  and  project  a  solidograph  of  the  scene.  Be 
teams  up  with  an  idealistic  drifter  and  the  two  of  them  start  making 
super-epic  historical  movies  by  photographing  appropriate  scenes 
from  the  past;  Alexander  the  Great,  the  decline  and  fall  of  the  Roman 
Empire,  etc.  After  making  a  pot  of  money  and  a  world-wide  reputation 
they  reveal  their  real  plans  for  the  use  of  the  time  viewer,  to  prevent 
future  wars.  With  the  time  viewer  in  the  hands  of  the  people  of  the 
world,  secret  treaties  and  aggressive  war  plans  by  governments  would 
be  impossible.  In  the  end  this  idealistic  pair  earns  an  “E  for  Effort”; 
which  would  be  small  consolation  to  them  were  they  around  to  receive  it. 

The  “Universe”  type,  or  the  generations  long  interstellar  voyage, 
has  always  been  a  chaUenging  theme  for  a  science  fiction  writer.  It 
allows  him  to  set  up  a  situation  in  a  closed  environment  in  which  he 
can  develop  religions,  governments,  or  simply  problems  involving 
people  under  exaggerated  conditions.  Re  has  a  world  in  microcosm 
with  which  he  can  do  as  he  wishes.  Reinlein’s  “Universe”  is  the 


146 


ALVA  ROGERS 


classic  example  against  which  all  similar  stories  are  compared.  One 
of  the  best  of  these  was  A.  E.  van  Vogt’s  “Centaurus  H,”  which  chroni¬ 
cled  the  degeneration  of  character  and  the  gradual  disintegration  of 
command  over  four  generations  on  the  Centaurus  n,  whose  mission  it 
was  to  determine  the  fate  of  the  first  expedition  to  Alpha  Centauri, 
check  the  system  for  habitable  planets,  then  explore  the  systems  of 
Sirius  and  Procyon  before  returning  to  Earth. 

Unlike  “Universe,*  the  purpose  of  the  trip  was  never  forgotten  de¬ 
spite  mutinies,  murders,  and  changes  of  command,  but  as  the  distances 
between  the  ship  and  Earth  lengthened  in  both  space  and  time,  the 
mission  became  a  secondary  concern  of  most  of  the  people  on  board, 
with  the  ship  itself— and  maneuverlngs  for  power  and  command — be¬ 
coming  primary.  The  story  was  quite  naturally  compared  to  “Universe,* 
but,  except  for  the  basic  plot  idea,  there  really  was  no  comparison. 
Although  it  was  not  as  epic  in  scope  as  “Universe,*  “Centaurus  n* 
remains  a  classic  because  of  its  sheer  interest  as  a  story  and  because 
of  van  Vogt’s  fine  handling  of  the  characters  and  atmosphere. 

Schneeman’s  cover  for  the  June  issue  (his  first  in  seven  and  a  half 
years)  was  his  fifth  and  best.  His  cover  for  Nat  Schachner’s  “Worlds 
Don’t  Care*  (April,  1939),  a  view  of  Saturn  as  seen  from  Japetus,  is 
generally  considered  to  be  his  best— and  a  very  lovely  astronomical 
painting  it  was,  too.  But  the  real  proof  of  Schneeman’s  talent  rested 
with  his  cover  for  “Centaurus  H*  which  was  a  colorful,  dramatic,  and 
accurate  illustration  of  the  story,  and  leads  one  to  believe  that  he 
could  have  been  the  best  of  all  Astounding  cover  artists  if  he  had  had 
more  covers  to  his  credit.  His  interior  illustrations,  needless  to  say, 
were  superb. 

“With  Folded  Hands...,’’  Jack  Williamson’s  cover  story  for  July, 
was  additional  proof,  if  any  were  needed,  that  he  is  one  of  the  better 
writers  in  the  genre.  The  story  of  the  arrival  of  the  Rhodomagnetic 
Humanoids,  with  their  irresistible  and  solicitous  Prime  Directive, 
“To  Serve  and  Obey,  and  Guard  Men  from  Harm,’’  and  the  futile  efforts 
of  an  old  and  broken  man,  Mr.  Sledge,  to  destroy  what  he  had  built  by 
blasting  the  Central  on  the  far  planet  of  Wii^  IV  with  a  rhodomagnetic 
beam  and  thus  relieve  all  of  mankind  of  the  oppressive  benevolence 
of  the  Humanoids,  was  an  almost  flawless  example  of  Williamson’s 
growth  as  a  skillful  and  sensitive  writer. 

Poul  Anderson,  who  had  made  such  a  teUing  impression  with  his 
first  story,  “Tomorrow's  Children,*  returned— alone,  this  time— with 
a  sequel  to  that  story,  “Logic.*  to  the  former  story.  Colonel  Hugh 
Drummond,  serving  as  the  representative  of  the  Acting  President,  had 
flown  around  the  country  to  make  some  sort  of  census  of  the  survivors 
of  World  War  HI  and  at  the  same  time  try  and  get  some  idea  of  the 
seriousness  and  extent  of  human  mutations.  After  finding  that  mutations 
would  be  extensive,  viable  and  fertile,  Drummond  pleaded  that  a  radical 
change  in  the  attitudes  of  non-mutant  humans  would  be  absolutely  es¬ 
sential  if  the  human  race  were  to  survive— in  any  form. 

“Logic*  takes  us  several  years  along  in  time  when  Drummond  has 


1947;  “ Centaurus  II,  ”  by  A.  E.  van  Vogt. 


148 


ALVA  ROGERS 


become  president,  and  the  country  lias  become  slightly  stabilized 
following  the  period  of  almost  total  anarchy  of  the  post-war  years,  and 
takes  a  close  look  at  a  mutant  child,  Alaric  Wayne,  the  son  of  normal 
parents .  These  two  stories— with  no  detectable  rewriting  or  revisions 
— form  the  first  half  of  Anderson’s  novel.  Twilight  World  (Dodd,  Mead, 
1961).  The  fact  that  fourteen  years  after  the  first  two  stories  were 
written,  Poul  Anderson,  who  had  matured  into  a  brilliant  and  skillful 
writer,  felt  they  were  good  enough  to  stand  on  their  own  merits  in 
company  with  completely  new  material,  speaks  highly  for  these  first 
two  efforts  of  one  of  the  modem  giants  of  science  fiction. 

One  of  the  most  eagerly  awaited  returns  from  the  war  was  that  of 
L.  Ron  Hubbard.  Hubbard's  science  fiction  reputation  had  been  made 
and  nailed  down  for  all  time  with  his  incomparable  classic,  “Final 
Blackout,”  but  his  overall  reputation  was  based  on  such  novels  for 
Unknown  as;  “Fear,”  “Death’s  Deputy,”  “Slaves  of  Sleep,”  “The  Case 
of  the  Friendly  Corpse,”  “The  Ghoul,”  and  others. 

Most  fans  hoped  for  Hubbard  to  return  to  the  pages  of  Astomding 
with  something  on  the  order  of  “Final  Blackout.”  What  they  got  instead 
was  “The  End  is  Not  Yet,”  a  three-part  serial  beginning  in  August. 
This  novel  concerned  the  efforts  of  an  idealist,  Paul  Martel,  to  prevent 
Jules  Fabrecken,  an  international  industrialist,  from  starting  an 
atomic  war  between  the  United  States  and  Russia,  which  were  the  only 
two  powers  capable  of  opposing  his  dream  of  a  fascist  empire.  This 
really  wasn’t  a  bad  story,  but  it  didn’t  even  begin  to  challenge  “Final 
Blackout.”  Rogers’  cover  was  not  too  good,  but  his  interior  illustrations 
were  excellent. 

In  “Mechanistria”  (January,  1942)  and  “Symbiotica”  (October,  1943) 
Eric  Frank  Russell  wrote  two  stories  ofplanets  with  exotic,  specialized 
life  forms  which  gave  Jay  Score  and  the  rest  of  the  crew  of  the  ship 
Upsydaisy  several  anxious  moments  before  resolving  their  difficulties. 
“Hobbyist,”  another  story  of  a  planet  with  weird  flora  and  fauna,  in¬ 
volved  only  one  man,  stranded  on  a  planet  without  fuel  for  his  ship, 
who  is  puzzled  to  find  on  landing  that  every  living  thing  on  the  planet — 
vegetable,  animal,  insect,  and  a  strange  crystalline  object  he  finds  in 
a  field  some  distance  from  his  landing  site — is  one  of  a  kind  with  no 
duplications.  He  ultimately  learns  that  everything  on  the  planet  is  the 
end  result  of  an  unusual  hobby  by  an  incomprehensibly  alien  hobbyist. 
This  little  gem  of  Eric  Frank  Russell’s  is  livened  by  the  presence  of 
an  interesting  fellow  crewman  of  the  protagonist:  a  macaw. 

The  September  cover  was  the  first  of  Alejandro’s  purely  symbolical 
paintings  on  which  his  fame  rests.  It  was  an  attractive  painting  of  a 
blue-skinned  man  sailing  through  a  multi-colored,  cloudy  space, 
stretching  to  reach  a  star  in  the  upper  right  corner,  a  ring  of  fire  en¬ 
circling  his  body.  Alejandro’s  covers  never  had  too  much  appeal,  even 
though  they  were  well  done  and  decorative. 

October  marked  two  firsts  for  Astovmding;  the  first  Chesley  Bonestell 
cover,  and  the  first  of  the  “Ole  Doc  Methuselah”  stories  of  Rene 
Lafayette  (a  pseudonym  of  L.Ron  Hubbard).  Bonestell’s  cover  (“Sun... 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOTODING  149 

Mercury  in  Transit”)  failed  to  supplant  Schneeman’s  Saturn  painting 
as  the  best  astronomical  cover  so  far  appearing  on  the  magazine,  but 
was  quite  good. 

“Ole  Doc  Methuselah,”  and  the  other  stories  in  this  series,  concerned 
the  adventures  of  Ole  Doc,  a  Soldier  of  Light,  who  travels  around  the 
universe  in  his  golden  space  ship  dispensing  his  medical  services 
where  needed.  According  to  the  code  of  the  Universal  Medical  Council, 
a  Soldier  of  Light  is  not  supposed  to  interfere  in  local  politics,  petty 
quarrels,  involve  himself  with  law,  etc.  But,  Ole  Doc,  accompanied  by 
his  devoted  slave,  Hippocrates,  always  seemed  to  get  himself  involved 
in  something  or  other  that  he  shouldn’t,  in  spite  of  the  code.  Ole  Doc, 
incidently,  received  his  medical  degree  from  Johns  Hopkins  in  1946; 
seven  hundred  years  before  the  time  of  these  stories.  The  “Ole  Doc 
Methuselah”  stories  were  immensely  enjoyable;  there  was  nothing 
pretentious  about  them,  they  were  fuU  of  rousing  action,  colorful 
characters,  spiced  with  wit,  and  yet,  imderneath  it  all,  had  some 
serious  speculative  ideas  about  one  possible  course  organized  medicine 
might  take  in  the  future  and  a  picture  of  medical  advances  that  was 
very  intriguing. 

For  all  loyal  E.  E.  Smith  fans,  October  seemed  an  interminably 
long  month,  but  finally,  at  long  last,  October  21st  rolled  around,  and 
with  it  the  November  issue  and  the  long  awaited  beginning  of  the  climax 
to  the  “Lensman”  saga,  “Children  of  the  Lens.”  Almost  six  years  had 
elapsed  since  the  conclusion  of  “Second  Stage  Lensmen”  in  the  February, 
1942  issue  with  its  stunning  disclosure  that  the  supposed  guiding  genius 
of  Boskone  was  apparently  a  demented,  renegade  Arisian.  To  those 
who  cared  (and  despite  a  growli^  chorus  of  nit-picking  criticism  of 
Smith’s  wrltii^s  heard  in  some  quarters,  there  were  still  a  goodly 
number  uiio  hadn’t  abandoned  the  good  doctor),  it  seemed  that  Doc  had 
written  himself  right  out  of  a  series.  We  were  quite  curious  to  see 
how  he  would  top  what  was  considered  to  be  vmtoppable. 

The  action  of  “Children  of  the  Lens”  takes  place  some  twenty  years 
after  the  events  related  in  “Second  Stage  Lensmen.”  Klnnison,  believ¬ 
ing  the  Boskonian  threat  to  Civilization  finished  foUowing  the  de¬ 
struction  of  Fossten,  the  “mad  Arisian,’’  settled  on  the  planet  Klovia, 
the  Patrol’s  stronghold  and  headquarters  in  the  Second  Galaxy,  and 
assumed  the  duties  of  Galactic  Coordinator.  There,  in  time,  he  and 
Clarrissa  raised  to  youi^  adulthood  five  children;  a  boy,  Christopher, 
and  four  girls,  two  sets  of  twins.  The  children  are,  unbeknownst  to 
their  parents.  Third  Stage  Lensmen  (L3’s)  and  as  far  superior  men¬ 
tally  to  their  father,  Kimball  Klnnison,  as  was  the  Gray  Lensman  to 
the  average  human. 

After  twenty  years  of  non- Boskonian  activity  things  begin  to  happen 
here  and  there  and  it  soon  becomes  evident  that  Boskone  is  again 
threatening  Civilization.  K  is  eventually  discovered  that  Boskone  is 
the  front  for  the  assault  on  Civilization,  and  most  particularly  Arisia, 
that  has  been  carried  on  for  eons  by  the  Eddorians,  a  race  as  old  as 
the  Arlsians,  but  diametricaUy  opposed  to  everything  they  stand  for. 


150 


ALVA  ROGERS 


The  Children  of  the  Lens  learn  from  Mentor  that  they  are  the  ultimate 
result  of  millennia-long  manipulation  of  the  life  lines  of  their  parents 
by  the  Arisians,  that  their  intellects  are  greater  even  than  the  Arisians, 
and  it  is  hoped  they  will  be  the  weapon  that  will  eventually  destroy 
Eddore.  This  they  do  by  fusing  their  minds  into  one  inconceivably 
powerful  unit  and,  using  this  fusion  as  a  mental  lens,  they  focus  the 
concentrated  power  of  the  minds  of  every  Lensman  and  of  every 
Arisian  in  the  Universe  on  the  planet  of  Eddore.  As  the  Children  of 
the  Lens  stand  locked  together  as  a  unit,  concentrating  on  this  mighty 
effort,  a  gigantic  lens  comes  into  being  around  them  and  through  this 
giant  lens  the  needle  of  force  bores  through  all  the  shields  of  Eddore 
and  in  an  instant  all  Eddorian  life  is  wiped  out. 

Following  the  conclusion  of  hostilities.  Kit  and  the  girls  learn  from 
Mentor  that  they  are  the  first  of  a  new  race  of  super  beings  who  will 
eventually  supplant  the  Arisians  as  Guardians  of  Civilization.  A  few 
eyebrows  were  raised  when  it  was  intimated  that  in  order  for  this  new 
race  of  super  beings  to  increase  in  numbers  beyond  the  original  five  it 
would  be  necessary  for  Christopher  Kinnison  to  enter  into  a  polygamous 
incestuous  relationship  with  his  four  sisters.  But  regardless  of  how 
this  offended  some  readers.  Doc  Smith’s  honesty  in  facing  up  to  this 
situation  was  a  mighty  blow  against  the  wall  of  taboos  that  surrounded 
science  fiction  and  the  pulp  fiction  field  generally. 

“Children  of  the  Lens”  brought  to  a  conclusion  what  is  probably  the 
greatest  single  work  ever  to  appear  in  science  fiction  magazines;  the 
Gray  Lensman  saga.  The  four  novels  published  in  Astounding;  ‘Ga¬ 
lactic  Patrol,”  “Gray  Lensman,”  “Second  Stage  Lens  men,”  and 
“Children  of  the  Lens,”  ran  in  their  total  wordage  for  well  over  four 
hundred  thousand  words  of  adventure,  mystery,  and  suspense.  The 
schema  of  the  saga  was  of  the  things  heroic  sagas  are  made;  the  clash 
of  gods  with  men  of  heroic  mold  fighting  on  the  side  of  good.  For  what 
are  the  Arisians  and  the  Eddorians  if  they  are  not  gods,  the  gods  of  the 
good  and  the  gods  of  the  evil?  And  Kimball  Kinnison,  Worsel,  Tregon- 
see,  Nadreck,  the  Red  Lensman  Clarrissa  Kinnison,  and  the  Children  of 
the  Lens  are  surely  heroes  in  the  classic  sense.  Smith’s  drama  is 
played  out  on  a  stage  encompassing  at  least  two  galaxies  plus  God  only 
knows  how  much  hyperspace.  All  of  life,  good  and  evil,  inhabiting 
these  two  island  universes  is  involved  in  one  sense  or  another  in  this 
titanic  conflict;  a  conflict  which  has  been  raging  through  eons  of  time. 

If,  on  close  analysis,  or  even  without  close  analysis.  Smith’s  work 
proves  to  be  less  than  a  perfect  work  of  literature,  this  doesn’t  in  the 
least  obscure  or  alter  the  fact  that  he  has  fulfilled,  many  times  over, 
his  primary  obligation  as  a  writer  of  fiction;  he  has  entertained. 

A  word  now  about  the  rather  unusual  publishing  history  of  the  Lens¬ 
man  stories.  The  first  installment  of  “Children  of  the  Lens”  appeared 
on  the  newsstands  October  21,  1947.  The  story  was  prefaced  with  an 
introduction  written  by  Christopher  Kinnison,  L3,  of  Klovia,  which  re¬ 
lates  the  events  leading  up  to  the  beginning  of  “Children.”  To  anyone 
having  read  the  three  preceding  novels  this  was  just  a  recap  of  what 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  151 

had  gone  before.  But  the  more  observant  fans  were  surprised  to  see 
brief  references  to  Virgil  Samms,  the  Triplanetary  League,  the  golden 
meteors  of  the  Triplanetary  League,  Rodebush,  and  Cleveland  made  in 
this  synopsis.  And  elsewhere  in  the  story  an  occasional  mention  was 
made  of  Nevia  and  the  Nevians.  These  were,  without  any  doubt,  re¬ 
ferences  to  his  1934  Amazing  Stories  novel,  “Triplanetary,”  which,  as 
far  as  most  of  us  knew,  had  nothing  whatsoever  to  do  with  the  Lensman 
saga.  The  mystery  of  these  references  was  not  to  be  a  mystery  for 
too  long. 

In  1948,  Fantasy  Press  published  Triplanetary,  by  E.  E.  Smith, 
Ph  J).,  and  the  questions  were  answereH^  “^Triplanetary”  (the  maga¬ 
zine  version)  had  been  revised  to  make  it  the  first  of  the  Lensman 
novels.  In  the  book  version  the  complete  details  of  the  Arisian-Eddorian 
conflict  were  presented  in  the  first  chapter,  and  for  the  next  97  pages 
Smith  traces  the  histories  of  the  Kinnison  and  MacDougall  lines  from 
the  fall  of  Atlantis  to  19-?,  all  the  time  showing  the  workings  of 
Eddore  and  Arisia  in  the  background.  The  remainder  of  the  book  was 
the  old  “Triplanetary”  as  revised.  In  these  pages  Eddore  and  Arisia 
are  constantly  before  the  reader  (although,  of  course,  hidden  from  the 
protagonists  of  the  novel)  and  the  great  villain  of  the  original  story. 
Gray  Roger  is  revealed  (again,  only  to  the  reader)  as  the  Eddorian 
Gharlane,  who  again  appears  in  the  book  version  of  Second  Stage  Lens- 
men  as  Fossten. 

In  1950,  Fantasy  Press  brought  out  First  Lensman,  an  entirely  new 
book  forming  a  bridge  between  Triplanetary  and  Galactic  Patrol,  also 
published  in  1950  by  Fantasy  Press.  First  Lensman  delineated  even 
further  the  hidden  Eddorian-Arisian  conflict,  and  told  of  the  first 
human  to  approach  Arisia  for  help  in  the  continuing  fight  against  crime 
and  the  bestowal  on  this  human,  Virgil  Samms,  of  the  lens  and  the 
formation  of  the  Galactic  Patrol.  The  second  to  receive  the  lens  was 
Roderick  “Rod  the  Rock”  Kinnison. 

None  of  this,  of  course,  was  even  hinted  at  in  the  magazine  versions 
of  ‘Galactic  Patrol”  and  “Gray  Lensman,”  the  first  mention  of  Eddore 
in  Astounding  occurred  in  the  February,  1942  issue,  the  last  install¬ 
ment  of  “Second  Stage  Lensmen,”  on  page  103.  Kinnison,  in  the  guise 
of  Traska  Gannel  who  is  soon  to  become  the  Tyrant  of  Thrale  and  thus 
the  head  of  Boskone,  is  visited  in  his  quarters  unexpectedly  by  the 
Tyrant’s  prime  minister,  Fossten,  who  asks  him  a  completely  in¬ 
comprehensible  question:  ‘Just  when  did  you  leave  Eddore?”  Fossten 
gives  no  explanation  of  his  question,  nor,  really,  does  the  author. 
This  same  question  is  asked — this  time  by  Fossten-Gharlane — on  page 
250  of  the  book  with  a  slight  change:  “Just  when  did  you  leave  the 
Circle?”  In  the  magazine  version,  Fossten  is  in  doubt  as  to  whether 
Traska  Gannel  is  a  bona  fide  Boskonian,  or  whether  he  is  in  fact  Star- 
A-Star,  the  dread  Lensman.  In  the  book,  Fossten-Gharlane  wonders  if 
Gannel  is  from  the  Innermost  Circle,  the  governing  council  of  Eddore, 
or  if  he  is  Star-A-Star. 

Now,  the  question  is,  which  came  first,  the  magazine  version  or  the 


152 


ALVA  ROGERS 


book  version?  Was  Eddore  conceived  of  as  the  force  behind  Boskone 
with  the  writing  of  “Galactic  Patrol,"  or  was  it  a  later  invention  dream¬ 
ed  up  as  Boskone  became  more  complex  by  the  time  of  “Second  Stage 
Lensmen?”  Was  “Second  Stage  Lensmen”  really  intended  to  be  the 
climax  to  a  trilogy  (as  was  assumed  at  the  time),  Avith  ‘Children  of  the 
Lens”  written  after  the  war  in  response  to  demands  for  a  sequel? 
After  all,  it  was  not  inconceivable  that  Smith  took  that  one  vague  re¬ 
ference  to  Eddore  in  “Second  Stage  Lensmen”  and  expanded  on  it  for 
the  final  explanation  of  Boskone  in  “Children  of  the  Lens.”  The  natural 
assumption,  due  to  the  publication  dates,  would  be  that  the  magazine 
versions  were  the  originals,  and  after  writing  “Children  of  the  Lens” 
(or  concurrent  with  its  writing)  he  revised  “Triplanetary”  to  tie  it  into 
the  Lensman  series.  But  let  Doc  Smith  explain  it  in  his  own  words: 

“The  Children  of  the  Lens”  was  the  story,  but  it  could  not  be 
told  without  300,000  words  of  introductory  material.  It  was  not 
outlined  in  fine  detail  until  after  “Galactic  Patrol”  and  “Gray 
Lensman”  both  were  written,  but  the  broad  strokes— Arisians, 
Eddorians,  the  Boskonian  ladder,  and  the  logical  break-points 
between  the  nmgs  of  that  ladder— were  plotted  and  graphed 
before  the  first  rough  draft  of  “Galactic  Patrol”  was  started. 
Also,  the  grand  climax  of  “Children  of  the  Lens”  (“The  Power 
of  Love,”  chapter  29,  from  about  the  middle  of  page  285  to  the 
asterisks  on  page  289  in  the  book  version.  The  same  scene 
appears  on  pages  152  to  157  in  the  February,  1948  issue  of 
Astounding,  the  fourth  and  last  installment  of  the  serial.)  was 
written  and  polished,  almost  exactly  as  it  appeared  ten  or  more 
years  later,  before  the  final  draft  of  “Galactic  Patrol”  was 
mailed  to  Astounding. 

The  Eddorians  were  not  mentioned  sooner  because  John  W. 
Campbell,  Jr.  did  not  want  them  mentioned  sooner,  although  he 
knew  about  them  almost  as  soon  as  I  did.  Magazine  technique— 
s’prise,  s’prise,  toujours  S’PRISE.  They  appeared  in  the  book 
series  right  at  first  because  I  was  calling  the  shots  and,  in  my 
opinion,  that  was  where  they  should  have  appeared.  I  note  that 
you  don’t  agree,  but  that  fact  doesn’t  convince  me  that  I’m  wrong. 

As  to  explaining  it— I  can’t— you  and  I  could  argue  for  hours, 

I  suppose,  without  either  of  us  convincing  or  converting  the 
other.  So  about  all  I  can  say  is,  I  guess,  that  I  don’t  like  an 
author  to  hold  out  on  me.  I  like  to  know  everything  he  knows, 
so  as  to  be  with  him  step  by  step  in  every  development;  for 
which  reason  I  like  to  keep  the  reader  informed— fully  informed 
at  every  stage  of  the  story. 

“Triplanetary”  was  not,  originally,  part  of  the  Lensman 
series  at  all.  Nor  was  the  enlarged  version  in  any  sense  a 
sequel.  You  see,  throughout  the  “Skylark”  series  I  was  ex¬ 
perimenting  with  a  universe — a  imiverse  that  was  mathemati¬ 
cally  indefensible. 

(After  writing  “Spacehounds  of  IPC”)  I  had  the  brainstorm 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  153 

about  inertialessness,  and  on  that  as  prime  basis  I  built  the 
“Triplanetary”  universe,  which  both  Bates  and  Tremaine  of 
Astounding  liked  very  much;  so  did  the  fans.  I  liked  it  very 
much  myself,  so  much  that  when  I  started  to  dream  iq)  the  cops- 
and-robbers  story  that  was  to  become  the  Lensman  story,  1 
adopted  the  “Triplanetary"  universe  for  it,  practically  without 
any  chaise  at  all. 

...a  lot  of  fans  recognized  the  universe  and,  even  before 
•Children  of  the  Lens”  had  all  appeared,  were  telling  me  (and 
others)  that  ‘Triplanetary”  should  be  revised  as  the  first 
Lensman  story  and  that  one  (some  said  two  or  three)  more 
should  be  written  to  fill  the  gap  between  “Triplanetary”  and 
•Galactic  Patrol.”  Campbell  pooh-poohed  the  idea  (he  was 
right,  of  course,  from  a  magazine  editor’s  standpoint)  so  nothing 
came  of  it  imtil  (Lloyd  Arthur)  Eshbach  started  Fantasy  Press 
and  a  large  group  of  fans,  under  the  leadership  of  E.  Everett 
Evans,  began  really  to  bear  down  on  the  idea.  I  was  very  glad 
to  do  it,  of  course,  since  it  gave  me  the  chance  to  do  something 
that,  as  far  as  I  knew,  had  never  been  done  before. 

(From  a  letter  dated  June  18,  1963.) 

With  all  due  respect  to  Doctor  Smith,  it  is  still  my  opinion  that  the 
Lensman  series  read  in  book  form  only  loses  a  great  deal  of  the  ex¬ 
citement,  suspense,  and  feeling  of  anticipation  that  one  gets  from  the 
magazine  versions  where  the  forces  operating  behind  Boskone  are  not 
disclosed  until  the  climactic  novel.  The  expansion  of  the  menace  of 
Boskone,  the  step  by  step  disclosures  of  the  increasing  complexity  and 
scope  of  the  struggle  that  Civilization  was  involved  in  that  were  pains¬ 
takingly  developed  in  each  succeeding  novel  in  the  magazine  versions, 
was  in  great  measure  one  of  the  most  important  elements  in  the  stories 
in  assuring  sustained  interest  throughout  the  series. 

Regardless  of  this  criticism,  and  the  even  harsher  criticism  of 
some  of  the  more  trenchant  critics  of  Doc  Smith’s  epics,  I  still  con¬ 
sider  the  Lensman  saga  to  be  one  of  the  great  classics  of  science 
fiction  and  believe  that  the  book  versions,  because  of  their  permanence, 
are  essential  to  any  library  of  definitive  science  fiction.  All  six 
novels  have  been  published  by  Fantasy  Press  in  attractive,  illustrated 
volumes:  Trlplanetary  (1948),  First  Lensman  (1950),  Gal^tic  Patrol 
(1950),  Gray  Lensman  (19  51),  Second  St^e  Lensmen  (1953),  and 
Children  of  the  Lens  (1954).  It  might  also  be  mentioned  that  an  addi- 
tional  novel  related  to,  but  not  part  of  the  Lensman  saga  has  been 
published:  The  Vortex  Blaster  (Gnome  Press,  1960).  An  indispensable 
companion  to  the  collected  works  of  E.  E.  Smith  is  The  Universes  of 
E.  E.  Si^fe,  by  Ron  EUik  and  BiU  Evans,  “A  Concordance  to  the  Lens¬ 
man  and  Skylark  Novels”  (Advent:  Publishers,  1966). 

But,  to  get  back  to  the  November  issue,  there  was  one  other  story 
that  most  certainly  deserves  notice;  Theodore  Sturgeon’s  memorable 
and  classic  “Thunder  and  Roses,”  one  of  the  finest  anti-bomb  stories 
ever  written.  The  United  States  has  been  completely  and  utterly  laid 
waste  by  a  simultaneous  nuclear  attack  from  both  ^e  East  and  the 


154 


ALVA  ROGERS 


West,  but  has  so  far  failed  to  retaliate  even  though  it  has  more 
missiles  armed,  aimed,  and  ready  to  go  than  the  total  number  used  on 
it  by  its  enemies.  The  survival  of  man  all  over  the  world  is  highly 
problematical  due  to  the  intensity  of  the  contamination  of  the  world’s 
atmosphere  with  carbon  fourteen.  It  is  the  decision  of  the  government 
of  the  United  States  to  strike  one  last  blow  for  humanity  by  not  lashing 
back  in  senseless  hate  purely  for  vengeance,  thus  giving  mankind  one 
slim  chance  to  survive.  The  struggle  between  hate  and  humanity  is 
focused  in  one  man,  an  Army  sergeant  who  has  accidentally  discovered 
the  location  of  the  master  control  that  can  automatically  laimch  aU  of 
America’s  remaining  ready  missiles  spotted  around  the  country. 
Sturgeon’s  eloquent  plea  against  massive  retaliation  where  nothing  is 
served  but  vengeance  was  a  plea  for  sanity  and  humanity  in  the  atomic 
age.  But  how  much  more  urgent  is  his  plea  in  this  age  of  the  hydrogen 
bomb.  “Thunder  and  Roses”  is  as  pertinent  today  as  it  was  when  it 
was  written. 

And  finally,  although  it  pains  me  to  have  to  say  so,  Hubert  Rogers’ 
cover  for  “Children  of  the  Lens”  was  even  poorer  than  his  “Second 
Stage  Lensmen”  cover.  It  was,  in  fact,  the  poorest  of  the  five  covers 
illustrating  Lensman  stories  done  by  Rogers .  His  interior  iUustrations 
to  the  serial,  however,  were  exceUent. 

Simak’s  chronicle  of  the  “Webster  Family”  made  its  final  Astoimd- 
ing  appearance  in  the  December  issue  with  “Aesop,”  the  cover  novel- 
ette,  and  perhaps  the  best  story  of  the  series.  The  theme  around  which 
this  story  revolved  was  the  persistent  nature  of  the  killing  instinct  in 
man.  Jenkins,  the  ancient  and  revered  robot  who  had  remained  on 
Earth  after  man’s  departure  in  order  to  help  the  animals  on  their  up¬ 
ward  climb,  had,  after  several  thousand  years,  pretty  well  eliminated 
the  concept  of  killing  from  the  society  of  the  animals.  But,  not  too 
unexpectedly,  violent  death  returned  to  Earth  by  the  hands  of  a  webster 
(as  the  handful  of  man’s  descendants  who  remained  on  Earth  were 
known  to  the  animals)  who  thoughtlessly  killed  a  robin  with  a  crude 
bow  and  arrow  he’d  built.  Jenkins  realized  that  if  the  websters  were 
allowed  to  remain  on  Earth  their  innate  aggressiveness  would  eventually 
lead  to  their  dominance  over  the  animals  and  the  end  of  the  dream  of  a 
peaceful  world  of  gentle  animals.  But,  Jenkins  felt,  his  websters 
deserved  a  chance  to  make  a  better  world  than  their  ancestors  had; 
this  chance  he  gave  them  by  leading  them  to  an  alternate  Earth,  virgin 
and  uninhabited,  leaving  the  dogs  and  other  animals  at  last  on  their 
own,  to  make  of  their  world  what  they  would. 

This  was  a  truly  fine  series  told  with  great  skill  and  imagination. 
The  idea  of  animals  siq)planting  man  was  not  a  new  one,  but  Simak 
took  this  old  idea  and  imbued  it  with  new  stature  and  meaning.  Simak’s 
handling  of  the  interrelationship  between  men  (personified  by  the 
succeeding  generations  of  one  family,  the  Websters),  robots  (in  the 
person  of  Jenkins),  and  the  dogs  and  other  animals  was  brilliantly 
carried  off.  This  series  was  unquestionably  one  of  the  best  examples 
of  the  type  of  mature  science  fiction  that  Campbell  was  striving  for  in 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  155 

Astounding.  It  was  better  than  many  modem  so-called  mature  and 
sophisticated  science  fiction  stories  written  by  less  skillful  and  sensi¬ 
tive  writers  than  Simak. 

A.  E.  van  Vogt  added  another  novelette  to  his  “Child  of  the  Gods” 
series  with  “The  Barbarian,”  which  told  of  the  attempted  invasion  of 
the  Empire  of  Linn  by  Czinczar.leaderof  the  barbarians  from  Jupiter’s 
moon,  Europa,  and  of  his  eventual  defeat  by  Clane.  This  series  was 
very  enjoyable,  not  only  because,  as  mentioned  earlier,  of  the  appeal 
of  Robert  Graves’ Claudian  romances  which  were  the  apparent  inspira¬ 
tion  for  this  series,  but  because  van  Vogt  seemed  to  have  devoted 
considerable  thought  to  his  construction  of  his  future  “Roman”  Empire, 
Linn,  Although  the  parallel  was  obvious  in  a  broad  sense,  the  details 
were  strictly  van  Vogt,  and  the  characters,  particularly  Clane,  were 
reasonably  true  products  of  their  civilization  and  not  mere  cardboard 
projections  of  their  historical  models. 

The  balance  of  the  issue  was  made  up  of  two  short  stories,  “Age  of 
Unreason,”  by  Alfred  Coppel,  Jr.,  and  “The  Dreamers,”  by  Michael 
Yamin,  an  article  by  John  W.  Abrams,  “White  Dwarf  Stars,”  and  the 
second  installment  of  “Children  of  the  Lens.”  And  finally,  the  cover 
was  a  quiet  and  rather  striking  one  by  Alejandro,  illustrating  “Aesop.” 

The  year  1947  has  been  dealt  with  at  some  length  because  it  has 
always  seemed  to  be  a  pivotal  year.  The  Golden  Age  was  echoed  in 
such  stories  as  the  Kuttners’  “Fury,”  Sturgeon’s  “Maturity,”  Simak’s 
“City”  series,  Williamson’s  “The  Equalizer”  and  “With  Folded  Hands ...,” 
and  above  all  in  E.  E.  Smith’s  “Children  of  the  Lens.”  Forecasts  of 
fine,  even  great  things  to  come  were  intimated  in  the  debuts  this  year 
of  two  of  the  men  who  would  be  leaders  of  the  field  in  the  coming 
fifties  and  sixties:  H.  Beam  Piper  with  his  “Time  and  Time  Again,” 
and  most  particularly,  Poul  Anderson  with  his  memorable  “Tomorrow’s 
Children”  and  its  sequel,  “Logic.” 

By  1947,  many  who  had  been  away  to  the  wars  were  beginning  to 
return;  Jack  Williamson,  Smith,  L.  Ron  Hubbard,  Hubert  Rogers, 
Schneeman,  and  the  inimitable  Edd  Cartier.  The  imminent  return  of 
Heinlein,  de  Camp,  a  more  productive  Asimov,  and  others  was  antici¬ 
pated.  1948  was  due  to  get  off  to  an  accelerated  start  with  the  long 
awaited  sequel  to  Asimov’s  “The  Mule”,  “Now  You  See  It...” 

But  in  spite  of  these  auguries  for  the  future— a  future  that  just  might 
be  every  bit  as  great  as  the  Golden  Age  in  many  respects— the  Golden 
Age  was  over,  and  nothing  could  prolong  it  or  revive  it. 

The  Golden  Age  of  Astounding  is  something  thought  of  as  having  em¬ 
braced  the  entire  decade  of  the  forties,  particularly  by  those  fans  to 
whom  this  era  of  science  fiction  is  but  legend.  Many  fans  who  were 
reading  Astounding  at  this  time,  or  collectors  with  a  scholarly  approach 
to  science  fiction  more  often  narrow  it  down  to  the  war  years— 1940 
through  1945.  The  heart  of  the  Golden  Age  is  bracketed  by  the  July, 
1939  and  the  December,  1943  issues,  with  the  peak  being  the  years 
1940,  1941,  and  1942.  These  were  the  years  following  Campbell’s 


156 


ALVA  ROGERS 


editorial  apprenticeship  when  he  seemed  to  have  the  greatest  enthusi¬ 
asm  for  his  job,  when  he  had  the  greatest  rapport  with  his  writers, 
when  his  feedback  of  ideas  between  him  and  his  stable  of  top  writers 
was  operating  at  maximum  efficiency.  Ideas  germinated  in  Campbell’s 
mind  at  a  fantastic  rate  and  he  rushed  them  out  to  his  writers  in  a 
never  ending  stream.  Campbell  still  feeds  ideas  to  his  writers,  but 
they  seem  to  lack  that  element  of  inspired  genius,  the  dynamic  quality 
they  had  in  the  forties. 

1947  marked  the  tenth  anniversary  of  Campbell’s  editorship  of 
Astounding,  ten  eventful  and  revolutionary  years  for  science  fiction. 
Even  allowing  for  the  relatively  lacklustre  quality  of  1944  to  1946, 
these  ten  years  and  three  months  (123  issues)  are  perhaps  the  most 
significant  years  in  the  entire  history  of  science  fiction,  and  are 
certainly  the  most  important  in  the  history  of  Astounding.  Campbell 
has  never  been  content  to  sit  back  and  rest  on  his  laurels,  or  to  take 
the  cautious  approach  to  new  ideas  or  innovations.  He  has  always 
tried  to  keep  science  fiction  in  a  state  of  flux,  to  keep  it  ahead  of  the 
accelerating  advances  in  the  world  of  scientific  thought,  knowing  that 
complacency  in  editorial  attitudes  would  inevitably  lead  to  a  static 
science  fiction  which  would  reduce  or  eliminate  any  value  it  might 
have  in  the  world  of  ideas.  This,  of  course,  has  led  him  into  some 
questionable  bypaths  and  has  brought  the  ire  of  articulate  fans  down 
upon  his  imcaring  head  at  times,  but  he  has  carried  on,  sublimely 
confident  in  his  own  ability  to  guide  and  mold  science  fiction  into 
something  always  better. 

In  1947  the  5th  World  Science  Fiction  Convention  (Philcon)  was  held 
in  Philadelphia  on  the  July  Fourth  weekend.  The  Guest  of  Honor,  quite 
naturally,  was  John  W.  Campbell,  Jr. 


CHAPTER  XII 


THE  THRESHOLD  OF  MATURITY;  1948 


The  Silver  Years  of  Astoimding,  which  got  off  to  such  a 
good  start  in  1947,  continued  to  develop  increasing  rich¬ 
ness  in  1948.  In  outward  appearance  the  magazine  was  so 
far  superior  to  any  other  science  fiction  magazine  on  the 
stands  that  any  comparison  would  be  pointless.  The  covers 
—by  Rogers,  Bonestell,  Alejandro,  Timmins,  and  Orban— were  uni¬ 
formly  outstanding,  and  the  interior  art  took  a  tremendous  leap  upward 
in  overall  quality  in  the  work  of  Rogers,  Cartier,  and  Orban. 

In  1948  and  the  years  following,  the  Astounding  brand  of  science 
fiction  continued  to  be  the  best  in  the  field,  dazing  Stories  and 
Fantastic  Adventures  were  still  serving  up  adoleicinrpap~ancrwere 
virtually  ignored  by  more  mature  fans.  Thrilling  Wonder  Stories  and 
Startling  Stories  we  re  the  two  magazines  at  this  time  giving  Astoimding 
the  closest  competition  and  consistently  published  good,  if  not  quite 
superlative,  science  fiction.  Famous  Fantastic  Mysteries  and  Fantastic 
Novels  continued  to  present  reprints — the  former,  reprints  of  books 
which  had  never  before  appeared  in  magazines;  the  latter,  revived  in 
March,  1948  after  its  demise  in  April,  1941,  resumed  the  earlier  policy 
of  Famous  Fantastic  Mysteries  and  Fantastic  Novels  of  reprinting 
fantasy  classics  from  the  pages  of  the  early  Munsey  magazines  by  re¬ 
printing  A.  Merritt’s  immortal  classic,  “The  Ship  of  Ishtar.”  The  re¬ 
maining  science  fiction  magazine  being  published  in  1948  was  Planet 
Stories  which  had  its  own  unique  flavor,  a  mixture  of  fantasy  and  space 
opera  with  liberal  dollops  of  maidens  in  distress,  BEM’s,  handsome 
heroes,  flashing  ray  guns,  and  colorful  space  battles:  not  particularly 
mature  science  fiction,  but  most  of  the  time  lots  of  fun  for  relaxed 
reading.  One  shouldn’t  overlook  the  Avon  Fantasy  Reader,  edited  by 
Donald  A.  Wollheim,  a  fine  magazine  devoted  entirely  to  reprints, 
mostly  fantasy  and  weird,  but  some  science  fiction. 

By  the  end  of  1948  it  became  apparent  that  Campbell  was  getting 


157 


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ALVA  ROGERS 


close  to  achieving  the  goal  he  had  set  himself  when  he  became  editor 
of  Astounding,  to  bring  science  fiction  to  a  level  of  maturity  that  woiild 
commend  it  to  critical  consideration  as  a  serious  literary  form.  Al¬ 
though  science  fiction  was, and  still  is,  largely  ignored  by  most  critics 
outside  the  field  (unless  it  be  a  work  by  Aldous  Huxley,  C.  S.  Lewis, 
Nevil  Shute,  Philip  Wylie,  etc,),  this  didn’t  in  the  least  alter  the  fact 
that  the  science  fiction  found  in  the  pages  of  Astounding  during  1948 
and  in  the  succeeding  years  was  considerably  more  mature  and  sophis¬ 
ticated  than  that  of  previous  years,  and  immeasurably  more  so  than 
the  bulk  of  contemporary  science  fiction  found  in  the  other  magazines. 

However,  a  lot  of  fans  felt  that  the  increasing  emphasis  placed  on 
literary  values  in  science  fiction  tended  to  lessen  the  impact  of  science 
fiction  as  a  medium  for  presenting  and  exploring  ideas ;  that  certain 
intangible  story  values  are  obscured  or  lost  in  striving  for  “literary” 
perfection.  This  is  not  to  say  that  the  average  science  fiction  fan  has 
a  literary  tin  ear  and  can’t  appreciate  good  writing.  On  the  whole  he 
does  appreciate  good  writing.  What  it  does  mean  is  that  the  average 
science  fiction  fan,  usually  a  literate  and  well-educated  person,  wants 
a  strong  story  with  a  strong  or  thought-provoking  idea  incorporated  in 
it,  and  if  it  is  additionally  enhanced  with  literary  style,  well  and  good. 
But  his  primary  interest  in  science  fiction  is  in  the  story  and  the  idea; 
his  interest  in  literature  can  be  satisfied  in  the  mainstream. 

The  stories  foimd  in  Astounding  in  1948  and  1949  aboimded  in  ideas, 
some  old,  some  new.  So  far  most  of  them  were  not  particularly 
weakened  by  literariness— the  story  was  still  the  thing. 

The  outstanding  features  of  the  1948  Astounding  were,  of  course,  the 
serials,  of  which  there  were  three:  “...And  Searching  Mind,”  by  Jack 
Williamson,  the  sequel  to  his  1947  novelette,  “With  Folded  Hands  . , .” 
“Dreadful  Sanctuary,”  by  Eric  Frank  Russell,  a  novel  almost  of  the 
stature  of  his  Unknown  novel,  “Sinister  Barrier,”  And  closing  out  the 
year,  A.  E.  van  Vogt  gave^  us  “The  Players  of  S,”  the  long-awaited 
sequel  to  “The  World  of  A.” 

Of  almost  equal  importance  to  the  novels  were  a  handful  of  novelettes 
and  one  short  story:  “Now  You  See  It...,”  by  Isaac  Asimov,  the  pen¬ 
ultimate  chapter  in  the  “Fmmdation”  series;  “Police  Operation,”  by 
H.  Beam  Piper,  the  first  of  the  popular  Paratime  Police  series;  “In 
Hiding,”  by  Wiimar  H.  Shiras:  “Genius,”  by  Poul  Anderson;  “The  Rull,” 
by  A.  E.  van  Vogt,  and  the  short  story,  “That  Only  A  Mother,”  by 
Judith  Merril. 

“Now  You  See  It...,”  featured  in  the  January  issue,  was  a  long  novel¬ 
ette  which  finally  brought  the  Second  Foundation  to  the  center  of  the 
stage.  The  Mule,  that  strange  man  with  mutant  powers  which  enabled 
him  to  control  men’s  minds  and  emotions,  who  had  been  unpredicted  in 
Hari  Seldon’s  Plan,  had  conquered  the  Foundation  and  most  of  the 
galaxy  and  was  determined  to  continue  with  his  conquests  until  the 
entire  inhabited  universe  was  under  his  rule.  By  conquering  the 
Foundation,  with  its  capital  on  Terminus,  the  Mule  had  seemingly 


A  REQXHEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


159 


brought  Seldon’s  Plan  to  an  abrupt  end.  Seldon’s  Plan  had  been  carefully 
worked  out  so  that  it  would  reach  fruition  a  thousand  years  after  the 
fall  of  the  Galactic  Empire.  Integral  to  Seldon’s  Plan  had  been  the  two 
Foundations  set  up  just  prior  to  the  breakup  of  the  Empire,  one— the 
First — at  Terminus,  the  Second  at  Star’s  End  at  the  opposite  end  of 
the  galaxy.  The  First  Foundation  was  based  on  the  physical  sciences 
and  designed  to  provide  the  political  framework  of  a  single  universal 
state,  while  the  Second  Foundation  was  based  on  the  mental  sciences 
and  was  to  prepare  a  world  of  mental  supermen  who  would  form  the 
leading  class  of  the  new  empire. 

In  the  three  hundred  years  since  the  founding  of  the  Foundations,  the 
First  had  risen  from  a  weak  and  obscure  political  entity  on  the  Rim  of 
the  Galaxy  to  the  successor  of  the  old  Galactic  Empire  and  the  domi¬ 
nant  force  in  the  galaxy — until  the  advent  of  the  Mule.  Through  all 
this  time,  the  Second  Foundation  remained  hidden  and  a  mystery,  its 
very  existence  questioned  by  many.  One  who  didn’t  question  its  ex¬ 
istence  was  the  Mule. 

The  Mule,  believing  that  as  long  as  the  Second  Foundation  remained 
hidden  and  unconquered,  it  posed  a  threat  to  his  dreams  of  unquestioned 
dominion  over  the  entire  galaxy,  paused  in  his  course  of  empire  and 
turned  his  attention  to  the  problem  of  rooting  out  and  destroying  the 
Second  Foundation.  Serving  as  his  instrument  in  this  project  was 
General  Han  Pritcher,  a  former  Captain  in  the  underground  of  the 
Democratic  Opposition  who,  after  the  Foundation  fell  without  a  fight  to 
the  Mule,  continued  to  fight  the  Mule  until  he  had  been  Converted.  As 
a  “Converted,”  General  Pritcher  was  completely  loyal  and  devoted  to 
the  “First  Citizen,”  as  the  Mule  preferred  to  be  called.  Assisting 
Pritcher  was  Bail  Channis,  an  Unconverted,  but  by  reason  of  self- 
interest,  a  loyal  follower  of  the  Mule.  It  was  the  task  of  these  two  to 
explore  certain  leads  in  certain  areas  of  the  galaxy,  discover  if  possi¬ 
ble  the  location  of  the  base  planet  of  the  Second  Foundation,  report  back 
to  the  Mule,  and  guide  the  invading  forces  to  the  Second  Foundation. 

In  time  these  two  are  convinced  they  have  discovered  the  Second 
Foundation,  or  at  least  its  leaders,  on  the  forbidding  and  frigid  world 
of  Rossem.  Apprised  of  this  discovery,  the  Mule  makes  an  appearance 
on  Rossem  in  advance  of  his  invading  fleet  to  savor  the  full  taste  of 
his  victory.  There  follows  a  long  confrontation  between  the  Mule  and 
the  First  Speaker  of  the  Elders  of  Rossem.  The  Mule  demands  the 
surrender  of  the  Second  Foundation  in  order  to  avoid  needless  death 
and  destruction.  The  First  Speaker  counters  with  an  explanation  of 
why  surrender  is  out  of  the  question.  Bail  Channis,  as  the  Mule  well 
knew,  was  a  Second  Foundationer  but,  instead  of  having  been  planted 
on  the  Mule’s  capital  planet,  Kalgan,  in  order  to  lead  the  Mule  away 
from  the  Second  Foundation,  he’d  been  placed  there  to  lead  the  Mule 
to  the  Second  Foundation.  The  system  of  Tazenda  and  the  planet 
Rossem  were  not  part  of  the  Second  Foundation— Rossem  was,  instead, 
a  “Potemkin  Village,”  designed  to  trap  the  Mule.  The  Second  Founda¬ 
tion  was  still  hidden,  the  Mule  and  his  dreams  of  empire  were  finished. 


160 


ALVA  ROGERS 


The  Second  Foundation,  not  having  the  physical  and  scientific  might  of 
the  First,  had  been  forced  to  rely  on  deception  to  evade  the  Mule,  and 
on  the  mental  powers  of  its  citizens  for  the  ultimate  defeat  of  the  Mule. 
At  the  very  moment  the  Mule  and  the  First  Speaker  stood  on  Rossem 
talking,  the  “Elders*  were  on  their  way  to  Kalgan  and  when  the  Mule 
returned  to  his  capital  he  would  find  a  disintegrating  empire. 

“Your  Empire  is  done,  Mirtant.* 

Slowly  the  Mule  bowed  his  head,  as  anger  and  despair  corner¬ 
ed  his  mind  completely.  “Yes.  Too  late— Too  late— Now  I 
see  it.* 

“Now  you  see  it,*  agreed  the  First  Speaker,  “and  now  you 
don’t.* 

At  that  moment  the  Mule’s  mind  lay  open  and  unguarded.  And  in  that 
moment  the  First  Speaker  deftly  entered  and  made  an  infinitesimal 
adjustment  in  the  mind  of  the  mutant.  And  so,  with  all  memory  of  the 
recent  conversation  with  the  First  Speaker  wiped  from  his  mind  and 
the  notion  of  the  Second  Foimdation  a  blank  to  him,  the  Mule  returns 
to  his  Empire,  a  man  of  peace,  to  continue  his  rule  for  the  few  years 
remaining  to  him.  And  after  his  death,  Seldon’s  Plan  will  go  on— 
somehow. 

A  marvelous  story  which  left  one  impatiently  awaiting  its  sequel. 
This  story  was  beautifully  illustrated  on  the  cover  and  with  interiors 
by  Hubert  Rogers,  who  also  provided  the  fine  illustrations  to  “Children 
of  the  Lens,”  the  third  installment  of  which  appeared  in  this  issue. 
The  remainder  of  the  illustrations  in  the  issue  were  excellently  handled 
by  Edd  Cartier. 

Jack  Williamson’s  novelette,  “With  Folded  Hands...”  in  the  July,  1947 
issue,  had  been  a  near  perfect  story,  polished  and  complete,  and  re¬ 
quiring,  really,  no  sequel.  However,  a  sequel  was  intimated  in  the 
story  and  it  is  quite  likely  Williamson  did  have  one  in  mind.  Whether 
or  not  Williamson  originally  planned  one  is  really  an  academic  point 
for  a  sequel  did  appear  in  three  parts,  starting  in  March,  following  the 
conclusion  of  E.  E.  Smith’s  “Children  of  the  Lens.” 

“With  Folded  Hands  ...”  told  of  the  arrival  on  a  planet  of  the  Rhodo- 
magnetic  humanoids,  sleek  robots  who  could  seemingly  do  anything  and 
were  guided  by  the  inflexible  directive,  “To  Serve  and  Obey,  and  Guard 
Men  from  Harm.”  It  told  of  the  gradual,  but  implacable  take-over  by 
the  Hiunanoids  of  every  physical  activity  and  function  of  men,  “for 
their  own  protection,”  and  their  release  from  the  need  for  physical 
labor.  It  told  of  the  growing  alarm  of  some  at  the  implications  for  the 
future  in  this  mechanical  paternalism,  and  it  told  of  the  abortive 
attempt  of  Mr.  Sledge  to  destroy  the  home  planet  of  the  Humanoids, 
Wing  IV,  and  thus  end  their  threat  to  man.  Mr.  Sledge  had  created  the 
Humanoids  on  the  planet  Wing  IV.  He  had  designed  them  originaUy  to 
stop  war,  but  they  had  been  designed  too  well.  They  were  too  efficient, 
too  perfect,  too  benevolent,  and  blindly  obedient  to  their  Prime  Di¬ 
rective  as  they  spread  across  the  inhabited  parts  of  the  galaxy,  driven 
and  controlled  by  rhodomagnetic  beams  from  the  relay  grid  from  the 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


161 


central  mechanical  brain  on  Wing  IV.  It  was  this  central  brain  on 
Wing  IV  that  Mr.  Sledge  attempted  to  destroy  with  a  rhodomagnetic 
beam  only  to  be  stopped  by  his  own  creations. 

“. . .  And  Searching  Mind”  takes  place  some  thirty  years  later  and  in 
a  different  sector  of  the  galaxy,  but  concerned  with  the  same  thing; 
the  destruction  of  the  grid  on  Wing  IV  and  the  elimination  of  the  huma¬ 
noids.  The  agents  working  for  the  destruction  of  Wing  IV  are  an  odd 
assortment  of  people.  First  and  foremost  is  Mr.  White,  a  large,  im¬ 
pressive  man  with  a  flowing  mane  of  flaming  hair  and  a  beard  to 
match,  who  is  the  leader  of  the  rag-tag-and-bob-tail  band  that  is  at¬ 
tempting  to  destroy  the  seemingly  indestructible.  Mr.  White  is  a 
philosopher.  The  rest  of  the  band  was  made  up  of  three  men  and  a  girl: 
Graystone  the  Great,  formerly  a  stage  magician  and  professional  tele- 
path;  Lucky  Ford,  a  professional  gambler  with  the  power  of  telekinesis; 
Ash  Overstreet,  a  former  newspaperman  with  a  remarkable  nose  for 
news — a  clairvoyant,  extratemporal,  and  the  most  remarkable  of  all. 
Dawn  HaU,  an  appealing  nine-year-old  girl  who  had  been  rescued  from 
a  reform  school  by  Mr.  White.  Dawn  was  able  to  teleport.  White  re¬ 
cruits  Dr.  Webb  Claypool,  a  rhodomagnetic  engineer  at  the  Starmont 
Observatory  in  order  to  add  his  knowledge  of  rhodomagnetics  to  his 
arsenal  of  psychophysic  powers.  Claypool  at  first  refuses  to  join 
White  in  his  crusade,  but  later  changes  his  mind.  White  also  tries  to 
interest  Frank  Ironsmith,  a  genial  easy-going  mathematician  at  Star¬ 
mont.  Ironsmith  refuses  to  accept  White’s  warnings  of  the  menace  of 
the  approaching  humanoids  and  goes  on  his  enigmatic  way.  At  the  end 
Clajrpool  and  Ironsmith  find  themselves  apparently  at  polar  extremities 
in  the  war  against  the  humanoids.  And  in  the  denouement,  Mr.  Sledge, 
the  man  who  started  it  all  a  hundred  years  earlier,  reappears  to  resolve 
the  conflict  between  man  and  machine,  the  physical  sciences  and  the 
mental  sciences. 

Williamson’s  novel  was  big  and  it  was  complex.  But  even  though  it 
was  not  a  simple  romantic  adventure  like  his  earlier  *  Legion  of  Space” 
tales,  it  still  possessed  much  of  the  sweep,  adventure  and  color  that 
made  those  classics  so  memorable. 

“. . .  And  Searching  Mind”  was  published  in  book  form  as  The  Huma¬ 
noids  (Simon  and  Schuster,  1949)  in  a  slightly  revised  form.  The  most 
interesting  form  these  revisions  took  was  in  the  names  of  some  of  the 
characters:  Webb  Claypool  became  Dr.  Clay  Forester,  Dawn  HaU  be¬ 
came  Jane  Carter,  A.  White  became  Mark  White,  and  Mr.  Sledge 
metamorphosed  into  Dr.  Warren  Mansfield.  Frank  Ironsmith,  Lucky 
Ford,  Graystone  the  Great,  and  Ash  Overstreet — as  weU  as  most  of 
the  secondary  characters— aU  retained  their  original  names.  Why 
Williamson  felt  impelled  to  change  the  names  he  did  from  distinctive 
names  to  rather  colorless  ones  is  a  minor  mystery,  but  was  probably 
done  at  the  urging  of  his  publisher. 

“Dreadful  Sanctuary,”  by  Eric  Frank  RusseU,  a  long,  three-part 
serial  beginning  in  June,  was  a  taut,  fast-paced  and  remarkably  believa¬ 
ble  science  fiction  story  which  was,  at  the  same  time,  an  excellent 


162 


ALVA  ROGERS 


detective  story.  The  year  is  1972  and  John  J.  Armstrong,  a  business¬ 
man  who  has  designed  some  gadgets  for  the  eighteenth  moon  rocket, 
decides  to  investigate  the  reasons  behind  the  failures  of  the  preceding 
seventeen  rockets  to  get  off  the  ground.  His  investigations  lead  him 
to  a  seemingly  innocent  international  organization  called  the  Norman 
Club.  The  Normans,  or  Normal  Men,  claim  to  be  Martians  who  are 
acting  as  keepers  to  prevent  the  psychopathic  race  of  men  from  re¬ 
gaining  the  stars  and  reinfecting  the  sane  race  from  which  they  had 
originally  been  separated.  Armstrong  discovers  that  the  Norman  Club 
is  a  vast  conspiracy  that  reaches  into  the  highest  levels  of  governments 
and  is  working  to  bring  about  World  War  HI  in  order  to  cut  off  further 
rocket  developments.  But  whether  or  not  the  Norman  Club  is  as  it 
claims,  an  organization  of  Martians  running  a  planetary  insane  asylum 
—“How  do  you  know  you’re  Sane?”  the  Normans  ask  Armstrong— to 
keep  man  from  recontaminating  the  universe,  or  is  an  international 
conspiracy  bent  on  taking  over  the  world,  is  not  fully  revealed  until  the 
end  of  the  novel.  The  reader,  throughout  most  of  the  story,  ‘Pays  his 
penny  and  takes  his  choice.”  Either  choice  left  one  at  the  time  with 
the  disturbing  realization  that  it  could  be  as  RusseU  pictured  it. 

In  Russell’s  first  novel,  “Sinister  Barrier”  (Unknown,  March,  1939), 
he  advanced  the  Fortean  hypothesis  that  “we  are  property,”  the  cattle¬ 
like  property  of  non- human  beings.  This  made  for  an  exciting  story, 
but  it  was  essentially  unconvincing  as  an  explanation  for  widely  scatter¬ 
ed,  faultily  reported  and  seemingly  unexplainable  events  and  phenomena 
that  so  intrigued  Charles  Fort  and  the  Forteans.  “Dreadful  Sanctuary,” 
on  the  other  hand,  while  it  may  have  had  its  inspiration  in  Fort,  was 
still  a  more  intelligent  and  serious  examination  and  attempted  explana¬ 
tion  of  the  weird  and  inexplicable  conduct  of  post-war  mankind.  Who 
is  to  say  that  mankind  isn’t  insane  ?  And  who  is  to  say  we  aren’t  living 
on  a  planetary  insane  asylum  watched  over  by  Martians  or  other  extra¬ 
terrestrials?  “Dreadful  Sanctuary”  was  the  first  story  of  any  impor¬ 
tance  or  merit  by  a  first  rate  writer  in  the  field  of  science  fiction  to 
explore  this  fascinating  possibility.  Heinlein,  in  his  “Outline  of  Future 
History,”  labeled  the  post-war  years  the  “Crazy  Years,”  but  it  wasn’t 
imtil  1952  that  he  wrote  a  story  dealing  with  apparent  mass  insanity 
(“The  Year  of  the  Jackpot,”  Galaxy,  March,  1952).  And,  of  course,  in 
the  mainstream  there  is  Kafka  and,  more  recently.  One  Flew  Over  the 
Cuckoo’s  Nest  and  Catch  22  which  deal  in  one  way  or  another  with 
mass  lunacy. 

The  next  serial  in  Astounding  went  from  the  immediacy  and  realism 
of  Russell’s  novel  to  the  marvelous  unreality  of  van  Vogt’s  latest,  “The 
Players  of  S.”  Gilbert  Gosseyn  is  back  in  this  one,  and  in  an  even 
more  confusing  and  complex  role  than  in  the  classic  “World  of  A.” 
Gosseyn  is  involved  with  the  “players”  who  manipulated  him  in  the 
first  novel,  and  particularly  with  the  insubstantial,  shadowy  being  known 
as  the  Follower  who  shows  a  continuing,  and  possibly  sinister  interest 
in  Gosseyn.  Gosseyn,  with  his  Null-A  powers  and  extra  brain,  gets 
kicked  aU  over  the  galaxy,  from  the  Null-A,  semantically  oriented 


A  REQUIKM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


Venus  to  the  far  reaches  of  the  universe  where  he  finds  himself  in  the 
services  of  Enro  the  Red,  warlord  and  dictator- ruler  of  the  Greatest 
Empire,  who  is  waging  a  historic  battle  in  the  Sixth  Decant  of  the  galaxy 
for  the  control  of  all  of  space.  Back  and  forth  he  goes,  a  pawn  of 
players  he  never  sees— except  for  occasional  glimpses  of  the  amorphous 
Follower. 

Although  the  story  was  frequently  bewildering,  it  hardly  mattered: 
it  had  sweep,  grandeur,  color,  fascinating  characters,  fast-driving 
action,  and... yes,  a  Sense  of  Wonder  arising  from  intimations  of  cosmic, 
significant  factors  in  the  background.  The  same  Sense  of  Wonder  one 
found  with  the  original  magazine  versions  of  the  “Lensman”  stories, 
where  Eddore  was  kept  offstage,  out  of  view  of  the  audience,  but  con¬ 
stantly  affecting  the  drama,  giving  greater  meaning  to  the  action. 

When  van  Vogt  was  in  top  form  he  was  hard  to  beat.  A  critic  can 
take  a  van  Vogt  novel  apart,  brick  by  brick,  and  leave  it  a  shambles, 
as  Damon  Knight  did  in  his  In  Search  of  Wonder  (Advent:  Publishers, 
1956),  and  one  can’t  argue  with  him  on  a  critical  level.  But,  to  really 
enjoy  a  van  Vogt  novel  such  as  “The  Players  of  5,”  the  reader  has 
only  to  give  himself  xq)  to  the  magic  of  van  Vogt’s  story,  ride  with  the 
rushing  current  that  never  stills  till  it  reaches  its  destination.  If  the 
reader  does  this,  he  will  have  a  much  more  rewarding  experience  than 
if  he  reads  with  an  analytical  eye. 

“The  Players  of  A”  was  long,  four  installments  beginning  in  October, 
and  was  most  effectively  illustrated  by  Rogers  with  two  covers  and 
excellent  interior  illustrations. 

One  of  the  most  impressive  debuts  in  science  fiction  was  made  in 
the  June,  1948  issue  of  Astounding:  Judith  Merril  with  her  memorable 
short  story,  “That  Only  A  Mother.”  This  was  a  story  that  only  a 
woman  could  write  with  true  feeling,  but  it  most  certainly  was  not  a 
woman’s  story  in  the  conventional  meaning  of  that  term.  It  was  a 
poignant  tale  of  a  young  mother’s  serene  conviction  that  her  beautiful 
daughter,  who  could  talk  by  the  age  of  seven  months  and  was  obviously 
a  prodigy,  was  in  every  other  way  physically  normal.  The  child’s 
father  h^  worked  for  some  years  at  Oak  Ridge. 

H.  Beam  Piper,  in  the  July  issue,  began  his  popular  Paratime  series 
with  a  novelette,  “Police  Operation.”  In  an  earlier  short  story,  ‘He 
Walked  Around  the  Horses”  (April,  1948),  Piper  presented  a  fictional 
answer  to  a  well-known  Fortean  mystery:  In  1809  an  Englishman  named 
Bathurst,  while  on  a  trip  across  Germany,  stepped  around  his  coach 
horses  in  an  inn  courtyard  in  Perleburg,  Prussia,  and  vanished,  com¬ 
pletely  and— as  far  as  anyone  knows— forever.  “Police  Operation,” 
and  the  other  stories  in  the  series  had  to  do  with  a  highly  organized 
and  complex  police  force  operating  in  paratime,  across  probable  time 
lines.  The  primary  purpose  of  the  paratime  police  is  to  police  the 
multitudinous  probable  time  lines  at  all  levels  in  an  effort  to  keep 
them  separated  and  xmknowin®  of  each  other  and  if,  as  occasionally 
happens,  something  or  someone  from  one  time  line  appears  in  another 
the  Paratime  Police  show  iq)  to  take  care  of  the  problem  as  quietly  as 


164 


ALVA  ROGERS 


possible,  and  to  take  corrective  action  to  restore  reasonable  normality 
and  to  provide  an  acceptable  explanation  of  the  event. 

The  Paratime  Police  stories  were  entertaining  tales  not  intended  to 
be  taken  too  seriously  which  provided  one  possible  answer  to  such 
Fortean  mysteries  as  unexplained  disappearances,  strange  visitations, 
apparent  violations  of  natural  physical  laws,  etc.  Piper  admittedly  got 
his  idea  for  the  Paratime  Police  from  Charles  Fort:  “...there  may  be 
something  in  the  nature  of  an  occult  police  force,  which  operates  to 
divert  human  suspicions,  and  to  supply  explanations  that  are  good 
enough  for  whatever,  somewhat  in  the  nature  of  minds,  human  beings 
have — or  that,  if  there  be  occult  mischief  makers  and  occult  ravagers, 
they  may  be  of  a  world  also  of  other  beings  that  are  acting  to  check 
them,  and  to  divert  suspicions  from  themselves,  because  they,  too, 
may  be  exploiting  life  upon  this  earth,  but  in  ways  more  subtle,  and  in 
orderly,  or  organized  fashion.”  (Charles  Fort:  Lol) 

December,  1948  saw  the  first  of  many  stories  by  Poul  Anderson 
featured  on  the  covers  of  Astounding.  “Genius,”  the  featured  novelette, 
was  Poul  Anderson’s  third  published  story,  and  told  of  a  distant  planet, 
far  from  Sol,  peopled  by  super  geniuses  who  had  been  kept  in  happy 
ignorance  of  their  origin  or  the  fact  that  they  were  a  long  term  experi¬ 
ment  by  the  Empire  (of  which  they  had  no  knowledge)  set  up  to  observe 
the  ways  of  genius,  and  of  the  way  the  planet  of  geniuses  subtly  turned 
the  tables  on  the  Empire. 

In  addition  to  Poul  Anderson’s  excellent  novelette,  this  issue  also 
contained  one  by  Eric  Frank  Russell,  “Late  Night  Final,”  which  was 
based  on  an  idea  that  Russell  was  to  return  to  and  examine  with  much 
greater  depth  and  perception  in  1951  in  one  of  his  best-known  stories, 
“And  Then  There  Were  None.”  The  idea  on  which  “Late  Night  Final” 
was  based  is  that  of  the  confrontation  of  brute  force  backed  by  rigid, 
imquestioning  discipline  with  that  of  a  culture  governed  simply  by  belief 
in  an  idea  and  existing  as  an  idyllic ,  almost  classically  pure  commimist 
society.  Russell  told  the  story  from  the  viewpoint  of  the  commander 
of  the  invading  authoritarians  and  did  a  beautiful  job  of  it. 

The  one  short  story  in  the  December  issue  was  the  first  story  in  a 
small  calibre  series  by  H.  B.  Fyfe,  “The  Bureau  of  Slick  Tricks,” 
which  was  about  the  Bureau  of  Special  Trading  on  Terra  whose  special 
task  had  to  do  with  dealing  with  unusual  economic  problems  involving 
imusual  extraterrestrials. 

The  December,  1948  cover  for  Poul  Anderson’s  “Genius,”  was  a 
surprisingly  effective  one  by  Orban;  his  first  for  any  sf  magazine. 

One  of  the  real  sleepers  of  the  year  was  a  first  story,  a  novelette, 
by  a  new  feminine  writer,  “In  Hiding  by  Wilmar  H.  Shiras.  This  story 
appeared  in  the  November  issue  without  any  prior  announcement  in  “In 
Times  to  Come,”  and  therefore  the  pleased  surprise  most  readers 
found  was  all  the  greater.  “In  Hiding”  was  about  the  almost  insuperable 
problems  confronting  a  decidedly  sig)ranormal  ten-year-old  boy, 
Timothy  Paul,  who,  for  his  own  protection,  had  to  pose  as  a  perfectly 
normal,  average  boy  of  his  age,  and  of  the  attendant  problems  of  a 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  165 

psychiatrist,  Peter  Welles,  who  quite  by  accident  stumbles  onto  Timothy 
and  his  problem.  In  a  way,  Mrs.  Shiras’  story  gave  off  faint  echoes  of 
Olaf  Stapledon’s  classic  novel  of  the  superman.  Odd  John.  Stapledon’s 
superman,  John  Wainwright,  was  a  homo  superior  child  bom  to  average 
homo  sapien  parents  who  is  convinced  through  most  of  his  life  that  he 
is  unique  and  must  therefore  maintain  a  surface  masquerade  of  sorts. 
Another  parallel  between  the  two  stories  is  in  the  use  of  a  normal,  but 
highly  intelligent  adult  as  the  confidant  of  the  superman  and  the  view¬ 
point  character:  in  Odd  John  it  is  the  narrator,  affectionately  if  a  little 
contemptuously  addressed  as  “Fido"  by  John,  who,  by  his  close  and 
constant  association  with  John,  accentuates  his  siq>erman  character¬ 
istics.  In  “In  Hiding”  it  is  Peter  Welles,  a  trained  psychiatrist  (and 
an  adult),  who  provides  the  contrast  to  the  supranormal  talents  of  ten- 
year-old  Timothy  Paul. 

In  the  novelette  “Co-Operate— Or  Else  I”  (April,  1942),  and  the  short 
story,  “The  Second  Solution”  (October,  1942),  A.  E.  van  Vogt  told  of 
the  difficulties  Professor  Jamieson  had  in  coping  with  the  monstrous 
Ezwal  of  Carson’s  Planet— huge  beings  looking  somewhat  like  a  giant 
sloth,  but  with  six  limbs  and  three  eyes,  highly  intelligent  and  tele¬ 
pathic,  and  completely  antagonistic  to  the  concept  of  cooperative  action. 
Because  of  the  Earth  forces’  need  of  Carson’s  Planet  for  a  base  in 
their  war  against  the  Rull,  it  was  Jamieson’s  job  to  work  out  an  entente 
with  the  highly  independent  Ezwal. 

The  lead  novelette  in  the  May  issue  was  ‘The  Rull,”  which  brought 
the  Rull-human  conflict  to  a  focus  in  the  persons  of  Meesh,  the  leader 
of  leaders  of  the  invading  Rulls,and  Professor  Jamieson,  both  stranded 
by  accident  on  the  lifeless  planet  Laertes  m,  and  each  the  prisoner  of 
the  other.  The  conflict  between  these  two  totally  alien  beings,  isolated 
from  their  respective  forces,  as  each  tries  to  impose  his  will  on  the 
other  in  order  to  gain  some  insight  on  the  racial  characteristics  of 
his  species,  made  for  a  tense  and  exciting  story. 

There  were,  of  course,  many  other  fine  stories  in  this  year:  some 
of  them  as  good,  if  not  better,  than  the  ones  singled  out.  Such  stories 
as  Sturgeon’s  “There  is  No  Defense”  (February);  Leinster’s  “West 
Wind”  (^rch),  dealing  with  the  use  of  the  prevailing  west  wind  by  a 
small  nation  to  spread  radioactive  dust  over  the  armies  of  the  major 
power  invading  it,  and  in  the  same  issue,  another  of  Rene  Lafayette’s 
Ole  Doc  Methuselah  stories,  “Her  Majesty’s  Aberration.”  These  all 
deserve  more  than  a  mention.  But  this  isn’t  all:  Lewis  Padgett  had 
another  of  his  wonderful,  wacky  Gallegher  stories  leading  off  the  ^ril 
issue,  “Ex  Machina” ;  Murray  Leinster  had  another  fine  story  in  May, 
“The  Strange  Case  of  John  Kingman”;  L.  Ron  Hubbard  was  back  again 
in  September  as  Rene  Lafayette  with  another  of  the  Ole  Doc  Methuselah 
yarns,  “The  Great  Air  Monopoly”;  Theodore  Sturgeon  was  featured 
again  in  October  with  ‘Unite  and  Conquer,”  a  novelette,  and  followed 
it  in  November  with  a  short  story,  “The  Love  of  Heaven.” 

These  were  all  better  than  average  stories,  and  all  contributed  their 
part  to  making  1948  one  of  the  best  years  of  the  last  half  of  the  decade. 


April,  1948;  “Ex  Machina,”  by  Lewis  Padgett.  Illustration  by  Cartier. 

There  were  few  physical  changes  Instituted  in  Astoimding  during 
this  year.  The  page  coAuit  remained  at  162  and  the  price  at  twenty-five 
cents.  The  cover  painting  continued  to  cover  the  full  page  with  the 
logo  at  the  top,  unchanged  in  style  or  size  from  the  previous  year,  and 
the  featured  story  in  a  line  at  the  bottom,  or  blocked  out  in  either  of 
the  lower  corners.  The  only  exceptions  to  this  style  were  the  covers 
by  Bonestell  for  April,  July,  and  September;  the  Alejandro  symbolic 
covers  for  February  and  May,  and  Canedo’s  for  August.  The  cover  for 
August  was  the  only  one  by  “Canedo"  on  Astounding.  (“Canedo”  was 
actually  Alejandro  Canedo.)  It  was  a  quite  good  symbolical  painting 
representing  the  power  of  the  atom  as  the  key  to  the  universe. 

Rogers  took  the  honors  for  covers  in  1948  with  four.  The  January 
cover  for  Asimov’s  “Now  You  See  It...,”  showing  a  rocketship  hovering 
over  a  dark  and  desolate  landscape,  was  the  best  of  the  Rogers’  and  the 
best  of  the  year.  His  painting  for  March,  illustrating  Williamson’s 
“...And  Searching  Mind,”  was  probably  the  most  dramatic.  This  paint¬ 
ing  featured  a  massive  full-face  portrait  of  the  red-headed,  red-bearded 
philosopher,  A.  White,  with  a  stream  of  spaceships  and  a  humanoid  in 
the  background.  The  other  two  Rogers  co^rs,  for  October  and  Novem¬ 
ber,  both  for  van  Vogt’s  “The  Players  of  A,”  were  not  exceptional,  but 
were  still  good  Rogers.  The  previously  expressed  opinion  of  Alejandro 
was  not  materially  changed  by  his  two  covers  for  this  year.  The  big¬ 
gest  disappointment  in  covers  were  the  astronomical  paintings  of 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  167 

Bonestell,  none  of  which  came  close  to  matching  the  dramatic  Sense 
of  Wonder  imparted  by  Schneeman’s  Saturn  painting  for  April,  1939 — 
still,  to  this  date  (1948),  the  best  astronomical  painting  to  appear  on 
the  cover  of  Astounding.  The  remaining  two  covers  were  both  pleasant 
surprises:  the  Timmins  for  June,  illustrating  Russell’s  “Dreadful 
Sanctuary,”  was  one  of  his  very  best,  and  Orban’s  cover  for  December 
made  one  wonder  why  he’d  never  been  used  before— this  one  cover  of 
his  was  better  than  ninety  per  cent  of  Timmins’  total  ou^ut. 

The  interior  art  was  well  taken  care  of  by  Rogers,  Cartier  and 
Orban,  There  were  a  couple  or  so  of  other  artists  used  occasionally, 
but  none  on  a  par  with  these  three.  The  only  thing  lackii^  to  make  the 
interior  art  department  perfect  was  the  work  of  Charles  Schneeman. 

With  the  December  issue.  Astounding  severed  its  last  artistic  contact 
with  a  bygone  era.  From  December,  1943  imtil  November,  1948,  the 
contents  page  had  been  decorated  on  its  left  hand  margin  with  a  cut 
from  an  illustration  by  Elliott  Dold  featuring  one  of  his  unique  space¬ 
ships.  With  the  dropping  of  this  last  touch  of  the  past  it  was  almost  as 
if  Campbell  was  putting  the  science  fiction  world  on  notice  that  hence¬ 
forth  Astounding  was  through  with  the  past,  that  it  had  evolved  into 
something  new  and  complex,  that  it  couldn’t  te  held  back  by  even  this 
small  reminder  of  an  earlier  and  simpler  science  fiction.  Whatever 
the  reasons  for  its  discontinuance,  many  old  time  fans  hated  to  see  it 
go,  and  said  so  in  letters  to  “Brass  Tacks”— to  no  avail. 

Astounding  continued  to  present  at  least  one  or  two  articles  per 
issue  which  were  at  least  interesting  to  those  who  like  articles  in 
science  fiction  magazines.  J.  J.  Coupling  (who  wrote  fiction  under  his 
real  name  of  John  R.  Pierce)  was  a  contributor  of  articles,  as  were 
E.  L.  Locke,  Willy  Ley,  R.  S.  Richardson,  Joseph  A.  Winter,  M.D., 
L. Sprague  de  Camp  and  Isaac  Asimov.  In  the  March  issue,  L. Sprague 
de  Camp,  who  had  worked  for  the  government  during  the  war  in  re¬ 
search  on  pressure  suits  and  oxygen  systems  for  high  altitude  flyers, 
recounted  some  of  the  practical  problems  involved  with  the  designing 
of  such  equipment.  The  article  was  called  “The  Space  Suit,”  and 
showed  how  this  wartime  work  could  be,  and  was  being  applied  to  space 
research.  In  the  course  of  the  article,  de  Camp  (always  the  great  de¬ 
bunker)  demonstrated  conclusively  why  the  feat  of  Weinbaum’s  hero  in 
“The  Red  Peri,”  who  dashed  unprotected  across  a  thousand  feet  of 
vacuum  on  an  airless  planet  with  a  girl  in  his  arms  (and  made  it  with¬ 
out  harm  to  either  of  them),  was  manifestly  impossible. 

But,  of  all  the  articles  published  this  year,  the  most  remarkable  was 
the  one  by  Asimov  in  the  same  March  issue,  “The  Endochronic  Pro¬ 
perties  of  Resublimated  Thiotimoline.”  This  was  an  impressive  article 
—in  appearance,  at  any  rate:  six  pages  jammed  with  formulae,  tables 
and  graphs,  and  a  half  colunm  of  bibliography.  But,  it  was  all  a  big 
tongue-in-cheek  hoax,  from  the  nonexistent  “Thiotimoline”  to  the 
bibliography. 

It  can  truthfully  be  said  that  1948,  the  first  year  of  Campbell’s  second 
decade  with  Street  &  Smith  and  Astounding  Science  Fiction,  was  one  of 


168 


ALVA  RCXIERS 


the  better  years;  not  as  great  as  the  best  of  the  Golden  Age  years,  but 
far  superior  to  most  of  the  years  from  1943  to  1946,  and  as  good  or 
better  than  many  of  the  years  of  the  fifties. 

The  criteria  of  what  constitutes  a  good  year  is  based  on  the  serials 
presented  during  that  year.  This  may  be  an  arbitrary  and  debatable 
method,  but  it’s  the  one  used  here.  Take  1948  for  instance:  the  year 
started  off  with  the  two  concluding  installments  of  E.  E.  Smith’s  cli¬ 
mactic  Lensman  novel,  “Children  of  the  Lens,”  followed  immediately 
by  Williamson’s  three-part  novel,  “...And  Searching  Mind,”  which  con¬ 
cluded  in  May.  June  began  Eric  Frank  Russell’s  long  three-parter, 
“Dreadful  Sanctuary.”  Following  Russell’s  novel  there  was  a  one 
month  lull  to  enable  the  reader  to  catch  his  breath  and  gird  up  his 
loins  before  grappling  with  the  bewildering  complexities  of  “The 
Players  of  A,”  van  Vogt’s  brilliant  four-part  fantasy  beginning  in 
October.  Either  of  the  two  complete  aerials  wovild  have  made  the  year 
one  to  remember,  but  to  have  both  of  the  complete  novels,  plus  two 
installments  of  the  Smith  novel  and  three  of  van  Vogt’s,  made  the  year 
truly  memorable. 

The  fine  novelettes  and  short  stories  published  during  the  year 
merely  added  frosting  to  an  already  rich  cake. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


COMING  OF  AGE:  1949 


The  final  year  of  the  forties  was  decidedly  not  one  of  the 
best.  Nor  was  it  one  of  the  worst.  Astounding  continued 
to  be  the  leader  in  the  science  fiction  field,  however,  without 
serious  contention.  By  the  end  of  the  year  the  science  fiction 
field,  which  had  had  only  two  new  magazines  added  to  it 
since  the  war  years  (Avon  Fantasy  Reader,  1947  and  F antastic  Novels , 
March,  1948),  saw  four  new  titles  added  to  the  list— and  the  fabulous 
science  fiction  boom  of  the  fifties  was  on  its  way. 

The  first  new  magazine  to  make  an  appearance  was  Super  Science 
Stories,  in  January.  This  was  a  rebirth  for  this  magazine  which  had 
been  born  in  1940  and  died,  a  casualty  of  the  war,  in  May,  1943.  Before 
its  death,  however.  Super  Science  Stories  had  been  presenting  some 
very  good  science  fiction  and  many  fans  considered  it  to  be  second 
only  to  Astounding;  so  its  revival,  in  1949  in  the  standard  pulp  format, 
was  looked  on  as  a  favorable  sign  for  the  future.  The  other  three 
magazines  appeared  toward  the  end  of  the  year:  Other  Worlds,  in 
November;  A.  Merritt's  Fantasy,  in  December,  and  The  Magazine  of 
Fantasy,  dated  Fall,  1949.  Other  Worlds,  a  digest  size  magazine,  led 
off  its  first  issue  with  “The  Fall  of  Lemuria,”  a  novelette  by  Richard 
S.  Shaver,  and  had  as  its  editor,  Raymond  A.  Palmer,  for  the  past 
eleven  years  the  editor  of  Amazing  Stories .  A.  Merritt’s  Fantasy  was 
a  companion  to  Famous  Fantastic  Mysteries  and  Fantastic  Novels ;  it 
was  pulp  size,  and  also  presented  reprints  from  the  Munsey  files— with 
the  added  gimmick  of  featuring  a  novel  or  story  by  A.  Merritt  in  most 
issues.  And,  finally.  The  Magazine  of  Fantasy. 

The  Magazine  of  Fantasy  was  the  real  precursor  of  the  big  boom  of 
the  fifties.  This  digest  size  magazine,  edited  by  Anthony  Boucher  and 
J.  Francis  McComas,  which  had  its  name  changed  with  the  second 
issue  to  The  Magazine  of  Fantasy  and  Science  Fiction,  was  eventually 
to  become  one  of  the  Big  Three  of  the  science  fiction  field.  At  first, 

169 


170 


ALVA  ROGERS 


despite  the  expanded  title.  The  Magazine  of  Fantasy  and  Science  Fiction 
leaned  heavily  toward  fantasy  but,  in  time,  a  better  balance  was  struck 
and  the  fictional  contents  more  accurately  reflected  the  magazine’s  title. 

\Vith  the  advent  of  The  Magazine  of  Fantasy  and  Science  Fiction,  the 
days  that  Astounding  would  remain  the  undisputed  King  of  the  Mountain 
were  numbered,  but  for  the  time  being,  at  any  rate.  Astounding  was 
still  the  undisputed  king. 

Astounding,  through  the  twelve  months  of  1949,  presented  many  fine 
stories,  mostly  in  the  novelette  length.  Although  there  were  four  com¬ 
plete  serials  and  parts  of  two  others  served  up  to  the  reader  in  these 
twelve  issues,  the  year,  for  some  reason,  doesn’t  really  stand  out  as 
one  of  the  memorable  ones  for  serials.  By  all  that  science  fiction  fans 
call  holy,  it  should  have  been  one  of  the  top  years  for  serials,  consider¬ 
ing  the  authors  represented:  A.  E.  van  Vogt,  Jack  Williamson,  Hal 
Clement,  L.  Sprague  de  Camp,  Robert  Heinlein,  and  Isaac  Asimov. 
Perhaps  it  was  due  to  the  fact  that  three  of  the  four  complete  serials 
were  relatively  short  two-part  novels  and  seemed  little  more  than 
novelettes,  and  the  major  portions  of  the  other  two  were  in  the  year 
preceding  and  the  year  following  this. 

The  van  Vogt  serial  present_in  this  year  was,  of  course,  the  final 
installment  of  “The  Players  of  A”  discussed  in  the  last  chapter.  This 
was  in  January.  In  February,  Will  Stewart  (Jack  Williamson)  began 
“Seetee  Shock,”  his  long-awaited  three-part  sequel  to  1943’s  “Opposites 
— React!”  “Seetee  Shock”  continued  to  explore  the  political  ramifica¬ 
tions  of  the  development  of  limitless  power  to  be  derived  from  contra- 
terrene  matter.  The  story  contained  most  of  the  tried-and-true  in¬ 
gredients  of  a  Williamson  space  tale;  a  young  scientist-hero  in  conflict 
with  his  uncle,  treason,  political  in-fighting,  last  minute  efforts  to 
avert  a  full  scale  interplanetary  war,  and  a  race  against  time  by  the 
hero  to  accomplish  everything  in  about  twelve  days  time  before  he 
succumbed  to  seetee  shock,  a  fatal  form  of  radiation  sickness.  “Seetee 
Shock”  was  good,  slick  Williamson  but,  even  so,  the  novel  seemed  to 
lack  the  color,  the  bravura,  the  sweeping  action,  the  bigger  than  life 
characters  that  made  the  best  of  Williamson’s  stories  stand  out. 

The  second  complete  serial  for  1949  was  in  two  parts,  beginning  in 
May.  “Needle,”  by  Hal  Clement,  was  a  science  fiction-detective  story. 
Both  the  detective  and  the  criminal  are  extraterrestrials,  semifluid 
beings  who  live  in  symbiosis  with  the  grosser  life  forms  of  their  native 
planet,  dwelling  within  the  body  of  the  host  and  extending  minute  fila¬ 
ments  throughout  this  body,  taking  over  with  their  greater  intelligence 
and  quicker  reactions.  The  criminal,  an  anti-social  member  of  his 
own  species,  and  the  detective— called  the  Hunter— both  crash  their 
ships  on  Earth.  The  Hunter  goes  down  in  the  Pacific  Ocean,  makes  his 
way  to  an  island  and  insinuates  himself  into  the  body  of  a  teen-age  boy 
in  order  to  continue  his  search  for  the  criminal  on  this  alien  world. 
The  Hunter  knows  the  criminal  will  have  taken  over  the  body  of  one  of 
the  billions  of  hximans  inhabiting  the  Earth:  his  job — find  the  needle 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  171 

in  the  haystack.  This  was  a  fine  story,  Clement’s  first  novel,  and  just 
about  his  best. 

In  July,  L.  Sprague  de  Camp  had  a  short  story,  “The  Animal- Cracker 
Plot,”  in  which  he  introduced  the  universe  of  Viagens  Interplanetarias, 
with  its  wacky  and  wonderful  worlds  of  Vishnu,  Krishna,  Ormazd  and 
the  rest.  This  was  the  first  of  a  whole  bushel  basket  full  of  short 
stories,  novelettes  and  novels  which,  if  written  ten  years  earlier,  quite 
possibly  would  have  appeared  in  Unlmown.  The  “Viagens”  stories,  or 
the  “Krishna”  stories — they’re  called  both — are  science  fiction  stories 
built  around  a  meticulously  worked-out  future  in  which  Brazil  is  the 
dominant  state  and  more-or-less  controls  space  travel  and  intercultural 
relationships  between  Earth  and  the  planets  of  the  nearer  systems .  It 
is  on  these  planets  that  most  of  the  action  of  the  “Viagens”  series  takes 
place,  Krishna,  Vishnu,  etc.,  and  it  is  in  these  settings  where  de  Camp 
shines.  Over  the  years  he  has  built  up  those  planets  with  geographies, 
religions,  politics,  languages  and  histories  of  a  complexity  that  makes 
the  Hyborean  world  of  Robert  E.  Howard’s  Conan,  or  the  Barsoomian 
world  of  Edgar  Rice  Burroughs’  John  Carter  seem  simple  indeed. 

The  August  cover  featured  a  portrait  by  Rogers  of  a  rather  sly  look¬ 
ing  character  dressed  in  chain  mail  with  a  sword  at  his  side,  a  wrist- 
watch  on  his  left  wrist  and  a  cigar  in  his  right  fist.  The  story  an¬ 
nounced  on  this  cover  was  “The  Queen  of  Zamba”  by  L.  Sprague  de 
Camp,  a  two-part  novel.  This  was  de  Camp’s  first  novel  for  Astounding 
since  “The  Stolen  Dormouse”  (April  and  May,  1941),  and  an  even 
wackier  novel  than  that  wild  tale.  The  hero  of  “The  Queen  of  Zamba” 
is  Victor  Hasselborg,  an  investigator  of  insurance  frauds,  who  is  hired 
to  track  down  and  bring  back  the  errant  daughter  of  a  Syrian  textile 
magnate.  Hasselborg  finds  that  the  daughter  has  taken  off  with  an  ad¬ 
venturer  and  BBC  announcer  and  he  traces  them  to  Krishna,  the  planet 
of  a  nearby  system  whose  people  are  quite  similar  to  men  in  appearance 
except  for  pointed  ears,  green  hair, and  antennae  on  the  forehead  which 
serve  as  organs  of  smell.  Thestory  really  gets  rolling  when  Hasselborg 
gets  to  Krishna  and  finds  he  must  surrender  all  his  detecting  parapher¬ 
nalia  and  modern  inventions  at  Novorecife,  the  outpost  on  the  planet  of 
Viagens  Interplanetarias.  There  is  an  Interplanetary  Council  ruling 
prohibiting  the  introduction  of  any  mechanical  device  or  invention  on 
Krishna  for  fear  of  the  ;ise  they  might  be  put  to  by  the  warlike  Krishnans. 
Hasselborg,  therefore,  must  pursue  his  quarry  into  the  wilds  of 
Krishna  disguised  as  a  Krishnan  and  using  the  means  at  hand  to  aid 
him  in  his  search.  He  hears  rumors  of  a  so-caUed  “Queen  of  Zamba” 
somewhere  on  Krishna,  and  suspecting  who  she  really  is,  sets  off  in 
pursuit  of  this  Queen,  with  danger,  adventure,  and  romance  dogging  his 
every  step.  It  was  all  great  fun  to  read — right  out  of  the  pages  of 
Unknown— and  wonderful  de  Camp,  but,  unfortunately,  it  was  a  story 
that  was  soon  forgotten. 

The  remaining  two  serials,  the  Heinlein  and  the  Asimov,  will  be 
discussed  a  little  later  in  this  chapter  because  of  the  interesting  cir¬ 
cumstances  surroimding  the  appearances  of  these  two  novels. 


172 


ALVA  ROGERS 


Second  only  to  its  serials,  Astounding  has  always  been  strongest  in 
its  novelettes.  This  year  had  several  which,  if  not  of  classic  calibre, 
were  at  least  up  to  expected  standard.  Lewis  Padgett  started  off  the 
year  with  “Private  Eye,”  the  cover  story  for  January.  Suppose,  in  the 
future,  the  courts  and  law  enforcement  agencies  had  at  their  disposal 
a  gadget  that  could  reach  as  far  as  fifty  years  in  the  past,  pick  up  any¬ 
one’s  act  in  the  past  and  project  the  action  on  a  screen  in  the  present. 
The  Eye  could  only  photograph  action,  not  thoughts,  but  from  a  second 
by  second  examination  of  the  acts  the  law  could  pretty  well  determine 
whether  or  not  intent  was  present  in  the  commission  of,  say,  a  killing. 
How  would  a  man,  determined  to  murder  another  man,  go  about  cover¬ 
ing  his  every  act  so  that  the  Eye,  somewhere  up  there  in  the  future, 
would  get  no  hint  from  even  the  most  insignificant  gesture  that  murder 
was  planned?  The  Kuttners  told  the  story  in  their  usual  masterful 
manner  and  threw  in  a  lovely  twist  at  the  end.  In  the  same  January 
issue  Isaac  Asimov  had  a  novelette,  “The  Red  Queen’s  Race,”  which 
told  of  the  attempt  of  a  nuclear  physicist  to  change  history  by  sending 
a  parchment  volume  containing  selected  passages  from  physics  and 
chemistry  texts  translated  into  the  Greek  of  Plato  through  time  to 
ancient  Greece.  The  title  (from  Through  the  Looking  Glass,  of  course) 
tells  the  whole  story  as  to  whether  or  not  he  was  successful  in  altering 
history  as  we  know  it. 

Wilmar  H.  Shiras  followed  up  her  phenomenal  debut  with  “In  Hiding” 
in  the  November,  1948  issue  with  a  sequel,  “Opening  Doors,”  the  lead 
novelette  for  h^rch.  This  story  tells  of  Timothy  Paul’s  guarded 
search,  through  the  mails,  for  other  children  gifted  as  he,  and  the 
different  problems  each  of  them  had  in  “opening  the  doors”  to  the 
secret  of  the  proper  means  of  adjusting  themselves  to  the  world  they 
live  in.  This  story  didn’t  have  the  impact  of  the  first — few  sequels 
ever  do— but  it  held  one  with  the  sensitive  manner  in  which  Mrs.  Shiras 
handled  her  young  protagonists  and  their  problems. 

Rene  Lafayette  (L.  Ron  Hubbard,  for  those  who  don’t  remember)  had 
two  Ole  Doc  Methuselah  novelettes  during  this  year;  “Plague!,”  the 
cover  story  for  April,  and  “A  Sound  Investment,”  in  June.  “Plague!” 
concerned  the  plight  of  The  Star  of  Space,  a  large  passenger  vessel 
bound  from  Spica  to  Earth,  which  is  refused  a  landing  on  Earth  because 
of  the  presence  of  a  strange  plague-like  disease  on  board  which  has 
already  killed  over  five  hundred  passengers  and  could  very  likely 
decimate  the  planet  if  aUowed  to  infect  anyone  on  the  ground.  Ole  Doc 
comes  a- running  and  in  due  time  comes  up  with  the  diagnosis  and 
cure  for  this  frightful  and  unknown  malady;  common  measles!  In  “A 
Sound  Investment”  Ole  Doc  and  his  four-armed  “slave,”  Hippocrates, 
are  forced  to  fight  for  their  lives  while  at  the  same  time  determining 
the  cause  of  the  death  of  nearly  everyone  on  the  planets  of  the  system 
of  Fomalton.  It  eventually  turns  out  that  Generalissimo  Lebel,  the 
acting  ruler  of  the  system,  had  ei^ineered  the  assassination  of  the 
ruler  and  was  the  author  of  aU  the  deaths  on  the  planet,  using  a  sonic 
projector  that  induced  fear  in  its  victims  to  such  a  high  degree  that 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


173 


they  literally  were  frightened  to  death.  The  reasonforall  this  carnage: 
Wilhelm  Giotini,  the  ruler,  had  willed  the  income  from  his  planets  to 
the  Universal  Medical  Society — The  Soldiers  of  Light — and  Lebel  was 
trying  to  get  all  the  surviving  inhabitants  of  the  planets  to  leave  so  he 
could  claim  the  system  by  right  of  salvage,  thus  doing  the  U.M.S.  out 
of  their  inheritance. 

Since  1941  and  1942,  Isaac  Asimov  had  been  concentrating  most  of 
his  writing  on  two  series  of  stories,  the  positronic  robot  series,  and 
the  Foundation  series.  The  one  is  laid  in  the  fairly  near  future,  the 
other  in  the  quite  distant  future.  So  far,  there  had  been  no  connection 
between  these  two  totally  different  themes,  but  in  a  novelette  in  the 
May  issue,  “Mother  Earth,”  Asimov,  for  the  first  time,  gave  a  hint 
that  there  might  be  a  connection.  The  connection,  of  course,  was  not 
apparent  at  the  time,  it  would  only  be  after  several  future  novels  had 
appeared  that  one  would  begin  to  see  the  scope  of  Asimov’s  concept. 
The  events  in  “Mother  Earth”  take  place  well  after  the  introduction  of 
positronic  robots  into  the  culture  and  in  the  earlier  stages  of  man’s 
colonization  of  nearer  stellar  systems.  Earth  still  exerts  dominion 
over  the  stars,  but  its  power  and  influence  is  beginning  to  weaken  as 
the  Outer  Worlds  grow  increasingly  more  independent  and  contemptu¬ 
ous  of  Earth. 

“Mother  Earth”  serves  as  a  prelude  to  two  novels  yet  to  come,  “The 
Caves  of  Steel”  (Galaxy,  October/December,  1953),  and  “The  Naked 
Sun”  (Astounding, "October/December,  1956).  These  are  both  essen¬ 
tially  positronic  robot  stories,  but  they  are  laid  in  a  period  of  galactic 
history  which  is  just  prior  to  the  first  glimmerings  of  the  great  Galactic 
Empire  that  controlled  the  galaxy  up  to  the  opening  of  the  Foundation 
saga.  By  the  time  these  two  novels  appeared,  the  discerning  reader 
was  in  a  position  whereby  he  could  get  some  idea  of  Asimov’s  scheme. 


174 


ALVA  ROGERS 


With  the  appearance  of  three  other  novels,  it  became  obvious  that 
Asimov’s  major  works  were  all  part  of  one  vast  concept,  a  galactic 
history  of  man.  These  other  three  novels,  which  were  all  part  of  his 
cosmic  canvas,  were  “Tyrann”  (Galaxy,  January/March,  1951),  later 
published  by  Doubleday  as  The  Stars,  Like  Dust  (1951),  Pebble  in  the 
Sky  (Doubleday,  1950),  and  “The  Currents  of  Space” "(Astounding' 
October/December,  1952;  Doubleday,  1952). 

James  H.  Schmitz,  who  had  made  one  brief  appearance  in  Unknown 
with  a  short  story,  “Greenface”  (August,  1943),  entered  the  science 
fiction  field  this  year  with  two  novelettes  which  remain  two  of  his  best, 
and  best  remembered  stories,  “Agent  of  Vega”  in  July,  and  the  cover 
story  for  December,  “The  Witches  of  Karres.”  “Agent  of  Vega,”  the 
first  of  a  series  taking  its  name  from  this  story,  concerned  the  prob¬ 
lems  and  adventures  of  a  Zone  Agent,  a  top  agent  of  the  Department  of 
Galactic  Zones,  the  super  police  force  of  the  reigning  power  of  the 
galaxy,  the  Vegan  Confederation.  These  stories  usually  featured  the 
adventures  of  a  different  Zone  Agent  each  time.  They  were  excellent 
stories,  tightly  written,  well  plotted,  with  plenty  of  action,  color  and 
fine  characterization.  “The  Witches  of  Karres”  told  of  how  Captain 
Pausert  of  the  Republic  of  Nikkeldepain  landed  his  freighter  Venture 
on  the  planet  of  Porlumma  and  there  met,  and  took  under  his  wing,  the 
three  witches  of  Karres,  and  of  the  adventures  that  subsequently  befell 
him.  The  three  witches  were  three  little  girls,  Maleen,  Leewit,  and 
Goth.  Captain  Pausert  bought  the  girls,  slaves  of  three  different 
merchants  of  Porlumma,  with  the  humane  intention  of  returning  them 
to  their  home  world  of  Karres.  At  the  time  he  didn’t  realize  how  re¬ 
markable  were  these  three  little  “witches,”  nor  to  what  adventures 
they  would  lead  him.  This  was  an  utterly  delightful  tale  lovingly 
illustrated  by  Rogers. 

Poul  Anderson  produced  four  stories  this  year,  three  shorts  and  a 
novelette,  “The  Double-Dyed  Villains,”  the  cover  story  for  September. 
This  was  a  good  early  example  of  the  type  of  story  Anderson  excels 
at,  fast  moving  action  on  an  interstellar  scale  built  around  a  solid 
thought  provoking  idea.  Anderson’s  idea  in  “The  Double-Dyed  Villains” 
was  that  in  order  to  maintain  some  semblance  of  peace  and  prevent 
utter  carnage  between  the  various  systems  of  the  galaxy,  the  Galactic 
League’s  Patrol  must  use  measures  that  do  not  involve  violence  or 
killing  on  their  part.  In  order  to  cope  with  desperate  situations,  the 
Patrolmen  must  be  adept  in  every  form  of  skulduggery  (short  of  mur¬ 
der)  conceivable;  treachery,  bribery,  suborning,  lying,  character 
assassination — you  name  it — the  Patrolmen  would  be  past  masters  at 
it.  It  worked,  too.  Interestingly  enough,  this  second  cover  story  of 
Anderson’s  rated  a  cover  painted  by  Orban,  Orban’s  third  and  his 
second  for  an  Anderson  story. 

There  were,  of  course,  a  number  of  short  stories  and  articles  pub¬ 
lished  during  the  year,  but  none  of  any  great  significance  or  outstand¬ 
ing  merit.  Christopher  Youd,  a  British  science  fiction  fan  known  as 
John  Christopher  today  (for  his  fine  novels),  had  his  first  science 


June,  1949;  “To  Watch  the 
Watcher s,”  Ulus tration  by 
Paul  Or  ban. 


fiction  story,  “Christmas 
Tree,”  in  the  February  issue, 
and  his  second,  a  novelette, 
“Colonial,”  in  the  April. 
Katherine  MacLean  had  her 
first,  “Defense  Mechanism,” 
in  October.  W.  Mac  far  lane 
had  a  gentle  little  tale  in  the 
June  issue  which  has  endured 
in  the  memories  of  many  fans 
because  of  its  last  line.  “To 
Watch  the  Watchers”  told  of 
Tully  Kloote,  the  first  man  to 
sail  into  interstellar  space,  of 
his  self-sacrifice  in  order  to 
enable  the  native  race  of  the 
planet  he  discovered  to  sur¬ 
vive,  and  of  the  memorial  they 
erected  in  his  memory;  a 
crude  statue  of  a  man  placed 
atop  a  hill  with  this  inscription 
on  the  base:  TULLY  KLOOTE 
It  is  a  proud  and  lonely  thing 
to  be  a  man. 

Of  the  more  than  a  dozen 
articles  published  during  the 
year  one  of  the  most  interest¬ 
ing  to  the  average  reader  was 
“The  Aphrodite  Project”  by 
Philip  Latham  (a  pseudonym 
of  Dr.  R.  S.  Richardson),  in 
the  June  issue  which  was  an 
article  written  in  fictional 
form  about  the  first  Venus 
probe  in  1947,  and  of  the  sud¬ 
den  opening  in  the  cloud  layer 
surrounding  Venus  while  it 
was  under  observation,  there¬ 
by  affording  the  observers  the 
incredible  opportunity  of 
photographing  for  the  first  and 
only  time  a  portion  of  the  sur¬ 
face  of  Venus.  According  to 
the  “article”  the  militarv 


176 


ALVA  ROGERS 


authorities  classified  the  project  and  denied  permission  to  release 
prints  of  the  photographs  taken;  however,  they  did  allow  artist  Chesley 
Bonestell  to  make  a  painting  of  Venus  as  it  was  seen  by  the  observers, 
and  that  painting  appeared  on  the  cover  of  the  June  issue  of  Astounding. 

No  mention  has  been  made  so-far  of  the  November,  1949  issue,  and 
for  a  very  good  reason.  This  issue  deserves  a  little  sub-section  of 
this  chapter  all  to  itself.  November  featured  the  first  installment  of 
two  serials,  one  by  Heinlein  and  one  by  Asimov,  a  novelette  by  Sturgeon, 
short  stories  by  del  Rey,  van  Vogt  and  de  Camp,  an  article  by  R.  S. 
Richardson,  and  a  cover  illustrating  the  Asimov  serial,  painted  by 
Rogers.  Campbell’s  editorial,  “Science  Fiction  Prophecy,’  discussed 
the  ways  in  which  many  prophecies  made  in  science  fiction  had  a  good 
chance  of  actually  materializing  because  science  fiction  writers  had 
laid  the  groundwork  for  future  practicing  scientists  and  engineers  to 
build  on  in  their  descriptions  of  their  gadgetry,  spaceships,  etc.  To 
quote  Campbell:  “This  type  of  suggestion  becomes  prophecy  because 
sound  engineering  ideas  have  been  presented ;  the  engineers  assigned 
to  actual  rocketship  development,  having  read  the  ideas  naturally  tend 
to  consider  them,  try  them,  and  use  them.  Generally,  a  desirable, 
practicably  attainable  idea,  suggested  in  prophecy,  has  a  chance  of 
forcing  itself  into  reality  by  its  very  existence. 

“Like,  for  example,  this  particular  issue  of  Astounding . . . .  ” 

In  the  November,  1948  Astounding,  a  letter  by  reader  Richard  A. 
Hoen  appeared  in  “Brass  Tacks”  praising  the  November,  1949  issue. 
Mr.  Hoen  raved  about  the  Rogers  cover  and  the  Schneeman  pix  for  the 
cover  story.  Placing  first  in  his  listing  of  the  stories  was  the  cover 
story,  “We  Hail,”  by  Don  A.  Stuart.  Second  was  the  installment  of 
Anson  MacDonald’s  “Gulf,”  not  as  good  as  “Beyond  This  Horizon,”  but 
darn  good,  said  Mr. Hoen.  Third  went  to  van  Vogt’s  “Final  Command,” 
Lester  del  Rey  was  fourth,  with  “Over  the  Top.”  Next,  surprisingly, 
was  L.  Sprague  de  Camp  with  “Finished”  and,  incredibly,  Theodore 
Sturgeon  placed  last  with  “What  Dead  Men  Tell.”  There  were  two 
articles  in  the  issue  by  Willy  Ley  and  R.  S.  Richardson,  and  in  “In 
Times  To  Come,”  Campbell  announced  that  in  January,  E.  E.  Smith 
would  start  his  latest  epic,  the  first  of  a  new  series. 

In  the  months  that  followed,  nearly  everyone,  including  Mr.  Hoen, 
forgot  about  the  letter.  Nearly  everyone,  that  is,  except  John  W. 
CampbeU,  Jr.  Very  quietly,  Campbell  set  about  making  this  “prophecy” 
come  as  nearly  true  as  it  was  within  his  power  to  do  so.  How  close 
did  the  reality  come  to  the  prophecy?  Well,  let’s  take  a  closer  look 
now  at  the  real  November,  1949  issue  of  Astounding  Science  Fiction. 

The  cover  was  by  Rogers,  not  one  of  his  best,  but  good.  Don  A. 
Stuart  was  not  featured  on  the  cover,  but,  it  goes  without  saying, 
“Stuart”  was  omnipresent  in  the  magazine.  Featured,  instead,  was  the 
long-awaited  climax  to  the  Foundation  saga,  “...And  Now  You  Don’t,” 
by  Isaac  Asimov.  “Gulf”  was  there,  the  first  of  two  parts,  authored, 
not  by  Anson  MacDonald  as  prophesied  by  Mr.  Hoen,  but  by  Robert  A. 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  177 

Heinlein,  The  rest  of  the  issue  was  made  up  of  a  novelette,  ‘What 
Dead  Men  Tell,”  by  Theodore  Sturgeon,  short  stories,  “Over  the  Top,” 
by  Lester  del  Rey,  “Final  Command,”  by  A.  E.  van  Vogt,  “Finished,” 
by  L.  Sprague  de  Camp,  and  one  article,  “The  Time  of  Your  Life,”  by 
R.  S.  Richardson.  The  column  “In  Times  To  Come”  was  missing,  as 
were  interior  illustrations  by  Charles  Schneeman.  Not  bad.  The 
discrepancies  between  the  prophecy  and  the  actuality  were  explained 
by  Campbell  in  the  March,  1950  “Brass  Tacks”:  “Most  prophecy  has 
minor  slips  in  detail.  It  would  be  a  stale  world  indeed  if  there  were  no 
room  for  variation  of  a  prediction!” 

In  appreciation  to  Richard  Hoen  for  giving  him  the  inspiration  for 
his  “Master  Hat  Trick,”  Campbell  sent  him  a  special  copy  of  this  issue 
autographed  by  all  the  authors  and  a  personal  letter  from  himself. 

Robert  A.  Heinlein’s  “Gulf”  was  a  superman  story.  This  loi^  novel¬ 
ette  (which  was  cut  into  two  parts  to  satisfy  the  details  of  the  prophecy) 
was  Heinlein’s  first  story  for  Astounding  since  “Waldo”  in  August, 
1942,  written  under  the  Anson  MacDonald  pseudonym.  “Gulf”  takes 
place  in  the  United  States,  in  a  time  following  World  War  HI,  the  com¬ 
munist  interregnum,  and  the  revolution  that  overthrew  the  communists. 
This  was  almost  pure  action,  but  like  most  of  Heinlein’s  tales  of  pure 
action,  it  was  pretty  well  laced  with  ideas .  The  action  revolved  around 
the  efforts  of  the  forces  of  good  and  the  forces  of  evil  to  gain  possession 
of  a  spool  of  microfilm,  the  only  record  in  existence  of  the  “Nova 
Effect,”  a  means  of  creating  atomic  fission  in  a  planetary  mass.  The 
evil  characters  in  this  story  were  pretty  standard,  but  reasonably  well 
done.  The  good  characters  were  the  supermen,  the  New  Men,  outward¬ 
ly  indistinguishable  from  ordinary  man,  but  separated  from  them  by  a 
wide  gulf,  the  ability  to  think  better,  to  integrate  data  and  arrive  at 
correct  answers.  Heinlein’s  supermen  were  ruthlessly  benevolent  as 
they  operated  behind  the  scenes,  trying  to  keep  man  from  destroying 
himself  and  at  the  same  time  insinuating  themselves  into  positions  of 
power.  In  later  years  when  it  became  fashionable  to  analyze  Heinlein’s 
stories  in  an  attempt  to  “prove”  that  he  is  authoritarian,  reactionary, 
anti-democratic, bloodthirsty  and  warlike,  “Gulf”  was  one  of  the  stories 
cited  to  bolster  that  opinion.  Heinlein’s  supermen  operated  under  a 
completely  different  set  of  moral  codes  than  ordinary  men  and  didn’t 
consider  themselves  bound  by  ordinary  rules.  Their  organization  was 
of  necessity  conspiratorial  and  anti-democratic,  and  political  assassi¬ 
nation  was  one  of  their  favorite  measures  in  bringing  about  a  desired 
end.  To  some  Heinlein  seemed  to  be  presenting  his  idea  of  what  con¬ 
stituted  an  elite  class  of  man  and  granting  them,  because  of  their  high 
IQ’s,  exemption  from  the  laws  governing  ordinary  man.  Whether  or 
not  the  New  Men  of  the  story  were  actually  mutated  supermen  really 
didn’t  matter.  Supermen  or  self-styled  elite,  they  were  integral  to  the 
plot  and  believable  in  the  context  of  the  milieu  in  which  they  existed. 

“...And  Now  You  Don’t”  brought  one  of  the  great  modern  classics  of 
science  fiction  to  a  satisfying  end.  The  time  is  nearly  four  hundred 
years  after  the  founding  of  the  Foundations,  and  fifty  years  after  the 


178 


ALVA  ROGERS 


death  of  the  Mule,  the  mental  mutant  who  conquered  the  galaxy  and 
almost  destroyed  Seldon’s  Plan.  The  First  Foundation,  centered  on 
Terminus,  Is  again  the  dominant  force  in  the  galaxy,  the  Mule’s  Empire 
reduced  to  the  world  of  Kalgan,  his  capital,  and  a  few  systems  allied 
to  it.  Kalgan  Is  ruled  by  the  so-called  First  Citizen  of  the  galaxy,  the 
Lord  Stettin,  who  seized  power  from  the  former  First  Citizen,  who  in 
turn  traced  his  succession  back  to  the  Mule. 

The  First  Foundation  resented  the  Second,  refused  to  concede  that 
they  needed  to  be  “led”  by  the  mentalists  of  the  Second  Foundation. 
Unless  they  destroy  the  Second  Foundation  they  can  never  be  masters 
of  their  own  fate,  will  be  nothing  but  puppets  dangling  at  the  end  of 
strings  pulled  by  the  invisible  Second  Foundation.  Leader  in  the  search 
for  the  Second  Foundation  is  one  of  the  leading  citizens  of  Terminus, 
Dr.  Toran  Darell,  who  has  reason  to  believe  that  some  of  the  men  on 
the  First  Foimdation  have  been  mentally  tampered  with  by  the  mental¬ 
ists  of  the  Second.  In  order  to  further  the  search  for  the  Second 
Foundation  he  sends  a  colleague,  Homlr  Munn,  to  Kalgan  to  study  the 
records  of  the  Mule’s  search  for  the  Second  Foundation.  Darell’s 
daughter  Arcadia,  a  precocious  fourteen-year-old,  stows  away  on 
Munn’s  ship  and  accompanies  him  to  Kalgan.  Munn  is  given  a  free  hand 
on  Kalgan,  but  is  later  arrested  by  Stettin.  Stettin  plans  to  wait  until 
Arcadia  matures  a  bit  so  that  he  can  marry  her  and  thus  unite  his 
house  with  one  of  the  great  houses  of  the  First  Foundation. 

Lady  Gallia,  Lord  Stettin’s  mistress,  secretly  helps  Arcadia  escape 
the  First  Citizen  and  Arcadia  realizes  Gallia  is  really  a  Second 
Foundationer.  She’s  convinced  Gallia  has  her  own  reasons  for  helping 
her  escape  and  that  she  can’t  return  to  Terminus.  It  has  suddenly 
become  obvious  to  Arcadia  where  the  Second  Foundation  must  be  loca¬ 
ted,  and  therefore  she  is  the  most  important  person  in  the  galaxy. 
Arcadia  is  helped  in  her  escape  from  Kalgan  byPreemPalver  and  his 
wife,  a  middle  aged  pair  of  merchants  fromTrantor.  Trantor  was  once 
the  hub  of  the  universe,  the  capital  world  of  the  First  Galactic  Empire, 
but  since  the  fall  of  the  Empire  it  had  become  an  insignificant  agri¬ 
cultural  world.  Arcadia  was  born  on  Trantor  but  hadn’t  been  there 
since  infancy. 

Arcadia  is  “adopted”  as  their  niece  by  the  kindly  Palvers  to  delude 
the  police  Stettin  has  sent  in  search  of  her,  and  accompanies  them  to 
the  planet  of  her  birth,  Trantor.  Darell  gets  word  that  his  daughter 
has  gone  to  Trantor  through  an  agent  on  Kalgan  working  for  Pelleas 
Anthor,  a  co-worker  of  Darell.  Darell  is  urged  by  Author  to  follow  his 
daughter  to  Trantor  for  his  own  safety  because  the  Second  Foundation 
is  obviously  on  his  trail  and  knows  about  his  work,  but  Darell  refuses, 
insisting  that  to  do  the  unexpected  is  the  only  way  to  keep  ahead  of  the 
Second  Foimdation. 

Arci  dia  settles  on  Trantor  with  the  Palvers  until  she  can  return  to 
Terminus,  and  finds  Trantor  a  fascinating  world.  At  one  time  Trantor, 
set  in  the  midst  of  the  myriad  suns  at  the  center  of  the  galaxy,  was  one 
gigantic  city  housing  four  hundred  billion  administrators,  the  greatest 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


179 


capital  in  all  recorded  history.  But  now  its  metal  has  been  stripped  off 
and  sold  for  scrap,  the  revealed  land  turned  into  farmland,  its  glories 
a  thing  of  the  past.  The  only  thing  remainii^  whole  from  the  days  of 
the  Empire  was  the  mighty  library,  the  old  Imperial  Library.  It  was 
in  this  library  that  Hari  Seldon  labored  and  ultimately  brought  forth 
his  Plan.  Here  Arcadia’s  grandparents  had  lived  until  the  Mule  died 
and  they  could  return  to  Terminus,  here  her  parents  had  come  in 
search  of  clues  to  the  location  of  the  Second  Foundation,  and  it  was 
near  the  library  that  Arcadia  was  born. 

Before  Arcadia  can  return  to  Terminus,  Lord  Stettin  launches  a  war 
against  the  First  Foundation  in  a  futile  effort  to  restore  the  lost 
empire  of  the  Mule.  Arcadia  persuades  Preem  Palver  to  goto  Terminus 
to  contract  for  the  sale  of  food  from  Trantor,  pointing  out  that  he  can 
make  a  huge  profit.  He  agrees  to  go  and  Arcadia  gets  him  to  promise 
to  contact  her  father  and  give  him  a  message  which  she  whispers  into 
Palver’s  ear — five  words. 

Palver  eventually  gets  to  Terminus  and  relays  Arcadia’s  message 
to  her  father.  Shortly  after  this,  Darell  and  his  co-workers,  including 
the  returned  Homir  Munn,  get  together  to  report  on  the  progress  of  the 
search  for  the  Second  Foundation.  Homir  Munn  stuns  everyone  by 
declaring  his  research  of  the  Mule’s  records  on  Kalgan  has  convinced 
him  there  isn’t,  nor  has  there  ever  been  a  Second  Foundation,  that  it 
was  thrown  in  by  Seldon  to  act  as  a  spur  to  the  First  Foundation. 
Author  accuses  Munn  of  having  been  mentally  tampered  with  while  on 
Kalgan  and  insists  that  they  all  submit  to  encephalographic  comparisons 
with  their  earlier  records  to  be  sure  they  are  all  untampered  with. 
The  test  proves  that  Munn  has  been  tampered  with. 

Anthor  then  announces  knows  where  the  Second  Foundation  really 
is— on  Kalgan.  The  others  reject  this  because  of  Seldon’s  statement 
that  the  Second  Foundation  was  on  Star’s  End,  at  the  other  end  of  the 
galaxy  from  the  First  at  Terminus.  Anthor  stubbornly  insists  that 
Kalgan  has  to  be  it,  and  gives  strong  arguments  to  prove  it.  Darell 
comes  back  with  the  declaration  that  Anthor  is  wrong,  that  he  knows 
where  the  Second  Foundation  is  located.  He  tells  them  that~Arcadia 
revealed  its  location  in  her  five  word  message  delivered  to  him  by 
Preem  Palver.  Arcadia’s  message:  “A  circle  has  no  end.”  The  con¬ 
clusion,  inescapable  and  inevitable  is  that  the  Second  Foundation  is 
hidden  on  Terminus.  Terminus  is  located  on  the  utmost  rim  of  the 
galaxy.  Follow  a  circle  to  find  its  end  and  you  end  at  the  beginning. 

Through  a  ruse,  Darell  then  reveals  that  Anthor  is  a  Second  Founda¬ 
tioner  and  extracts  from  him  the  information  that  the  Second  Founda¬ 
tion  consists  of  but  fifty  people  strategically  located  on  Terminus. 
Darell  has  some  doubts  about  this  figure  or  that  all  of  the  Second 
Foundation  is  located  on  Terminus  because  of  the  fear  that  the  message 
from  Arcadia  may  have  been  planted  in  her  mind  by  a  mentalist  on 
Kalgan  or  Trantor.  But  when  he  tests  Arcadia  and  finds  her  mind  has 
been  untampered  with  he  realizes  the  centuries  long  search  for  the 
Second  Foundation  is  over,  that  now  they  can  go  on  with  Seldon’s  Plan, 


180 


ALVA  ROGERS 


free  of  the  haunting  fear  of  the  Second  Foundation. 

But . . . 

In  an  unlocated  room  on  an  unlocated  planet,  two  men  are  talking, 
the  First  Speaker  and  a  student.  They  are  discussing  the  successful 
conclusion  of  the  Second  Foundation’s  efforts  in  restoring  the  true 
course  of  Seldon’s  Plan.  It  had  become  necessary  to  once  and  for  all 
remove  from  the  First  Foimdation  all  fear  of  the  Second.  To  do  this 
meant  to  allow  the  First  Foundation  to  find  the  Second  through  their 
own  efforts  and  to  destroy  it,  thus  restoring  their  self-confidence  and 
permitting  them  to  carry  on  with  their  part  of  the  Plan.  But  for  the 
success  of  the  Plan  the  Second  Foundation  had  to  be  free  to  develop 
also.  All  the  evidence  believed  in  so  implicitly  by  the  First  Foundation 
was  either  false  or  misleading.  The  key  to  everything,  of  course,  was 
the  location  of  the  Second  Foundation. 

When  Hari  Seldon  established  the  Foundations  he  located  one,  the 
First,  at  Terminus,  at  the  outermost  tip  of  the  spiral  arm  of  the  galaxy. 
The  Second  Foundation,  he  said,  “Was  at  Star’s  End,  at  the  other  end 
of  the  galaxy.”  The  materialists  of  the  First  Foundation  thought  in 
terms  of  the  physical  sciences  in  their  four  hundred  year  search  for 
the  Second  Foundation,  measuring,  calculating,  ending  up  at  a  point  on 
the  rim  one  hundred  and  eighty  degrees  from  the  First,  or  back  at 
Terminus.  Seldon,  however,  was  a  social  scientist  and  thought  in  more 
poetic  terms.  Seldon  set  up  the  Foundations  in  the  waning  days  of  the 
First  Galactic  Empire.  Terminus  was  located  at  the  furthest  point 
from  the  center  of  Empire,  on  the  rim  of  the  galaxy  where  the  Empire 
was  weakest.  To  a  social  scientist,  where  would  the  opposite  end  of 
the  galaxy  be?  Why,  in  the  days  of  the  Empire,  at  the  center  of  the 
Empire,  of  course.  Seldon  had  worked  at  the  great  University  of  Trantor 
and  in  the  Imperial  Library.  It  was  on  Trantor  that  he  had  gathered  a 
hundred  thousand  people  to  help  with  his  encyclopedia  project  which 
was  to  gather  all  the  knowledge  of  the  galaxy  to  insure  the  survival  of 
that  knowledge  in  the  days  when  the  Empire  was  no  more.  It  was  on 
Trantor  that  Seldon  maneuvered  the  authorities  into  exiling  his  encyclo¬ 
pedists  to  the  world  of  his  choice.  Terminus,  after  outraging  the 
authorities  by  predicting  the  destruction  of  Trantor  and  the  breakup  of 
the  Empire  within  five  hundred  years. 

In  explaining  his  choice  of  Terminus  to  a  young  mathematician, 
Seldon  said,  “It  is  enough  for  the  moment  that  you  know  that  a  scientific 
refuge  will  be  established  on  Terminus.  And  another  will  be  established 
at  the  other  end  of  the  galaxy,  let  us  say,”  and  he  smiled,  “at  Star’s 
End.”  And  a  moment  later,  in  talking  of  the  people  who  would  follow 
him  into  exile,  he  said,  “Most  will  leave  for  Terminus,  but  some  will 
stay.  It  will  be  easy  to  arrange.” 

The  Second  Foundation  was,  and  always  had  been  on  Trantor.  To 
Seldon,  the  other  end  of  the  galaxy  from  Terminus  was  at  Trantor,  the 
world  where,  in  the  shining  days  of  the  Empira,  “all  stars  end.” 

And  who  was  the  First  Speaker  of  the  Second  Foundation?  Why, 
Preem  Palver,  of  course. 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  181 

Physically,  Astounding  remained  the  same  as  the  preceding  year. 
Six  artists  were  used  on  the  covers  during  1949.  Rogers  for  January, 
February,  July,  August,  and  November.  Orban  for  May  and  September, 
Alejandro  for  March  and  October,  Bonestell  for  June,  Santry  for  April, 
and  Zboyan  for  December.  The  best  covers  were  Rogers’  for  July 
depicting  the  Brookhaven  Atomic  Pile,  and  his  portrait  of  Victor 
Hasselborg  on  the  August  cover.  Rogers,  Orban  and  Cartier  handled 
most  of  the  interior  illustrations,  with  Cartier  leading  in  quantity  of 
production,  if  not  quality. 

Book  reviews  had  become  an  almost,  but  not  quite  regular  feature  of 
Astounding  during  this  year,  with  reviews  presented  by  L.  Sprague  de 
Camp,  P.  Schuyler  Miller,  Willy  Ley,  Catherine  de  Camp,  and  R.  S. 
Richardson,  with  P.  Schuyler  Miller  the  most  frequent  reviewer.  Book 
publishers  began  to  advertise  their  science  fiction  titles  in  Astounding 
as  they  began  to  get  on  the  science  fiction  bandwagon.  The  page  count 
and  price  remained  the  same,  162  pages  for  twenty-five  cents.  In 
February,  Campbell  began  printing,  under  his  name  on  the  contents 
page,  the  call  letters  of  his  ham  radio  station,  W2ZGU,  and  in  March 
the  name  C.  (Catherine)  Tarrant  appeared  on  the  contents  page  as 
assistant  editor,  and  remains  there  to  this  day. 

Astounding,  during  1949,  had,  on  the  whole,  maintained  the  general 
postwar  level  of  excellence  that  had  been  established  in  1947,  although 
it  was  somewhat  more  erratic  than  1948,  or  even  1947.  It  didn’t  need 
an  expert  to  see  that  the  quality  of  writing  was  showing  constant  im¬ 
provement  as  time  went  on,  that  the  better  Astounding  writers  were 
becoming  skilled  craftsmen. 

The  December,  1949  issue  closed  out  not  only  the  decade  of  the 
forties,  but  it  rounded  out  twenty  years  of  Astounding;  it  was  the  two 
hundred  twenty-ninth  issue  to  appear  since  the  first  Astounding  Stories 
of  Super-Science,  January,  1930  appeared  on  the  newsstands  in  Decem¬ 
ber;  IdSS. - 


CHAPTER  XIV 


TWENTY  YEARS  IN  RETROSPECT 


1  stounding  began  its  career  in  the  first  months  of  the  De- 
/\pression  and  in  the  infancy  of  magazine  science  fiction. 
It  was  a  pulp  magazine  oriented  toward  the  action  and  ad¬ 
venture,  the  vividness  and  excitement  that  was  to  be  foimd 
in  the  other  magazines  in  the  Clayton  chain  of  pulps.  By 
today’s  standards,  it  was  the  crudest  sort  of  science  fiction,  bearing 
hardly  any  relationship  to  the  polished,  technically  accurate  science 
fiction  found  in  the  elegant,  near-slick  Analog. 

In  this  twenty  year  period.  Astounding  had  had  three  editors,  two 
publishers,  and  three  name  changes.  The  first  publisher,  William  L. 
Clayton,  published  a  large  chain  of  pulp  magazines,  and  the  chain  as  a 
whole  was  making  good  money  prior  to  Astounding.  Although  Clayton 
personally  was  an  ardent  fan  of  Astounding,  his  prime  object  in  publish¬ 
ing  the  magazine  was  to  make  money,  the  primary  object  of  any  publish¬ 
er,  then  or  now.  Clayton  couldn’t  depend  on  the  relatively  small  nucleus 
of  science  fiction  addicts  of  the  day  to  make  this  magazine  a  money 
making  proposition.  Astounding  had  to  appeal  as  well  to  the  broader 
base  of  general  pulp  readers.  Astounding  was,  essentially,  just  another 
adventure  pulp  in  a  more  exotic  dressT 

The  science  fiction  fan,  however,  was  fortunate  in  that  Clayton  had 
as  his  editor  of  this  new  science  fiction  magazine  a  conscientious  and 
able  man,  Harry  Bates.  Bates  has  come  to  be  regarded  over  the  years 
—quite  unjustly— as  an  incompetent,  lowbrow  editor  simply  because 
today  the  stories  he  published  thirty  years  ago  show  up  as  hammer¬ 
handed  pulp  work.  What  the  fan  of  twenty  or  thirty  years  later  fails  to 
realize  is  that  Bates  had  almost  literally  nothing  to  work  with  in  the 
way  of  a  reservoir  of  skilled,  knowledgeable  science  fiction  writers, 
nor  a  body  of  tradition  going  before  on  which  to  build.  Magazine  science 
fiction,  modern  science  fiction,  was  just  in  the  process  of  breaking 
away  from  the  classic  nineteenth  century  and  early  twentieth  century 


182 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


183 


mold  that  had  provided  the  original  form  of  science  fiction. 

From  the  beginning,  Bates  paid  his  authors  two  cents  a  word  on 
acceptance  for  their  stories  and  worked  closely  with  writers  more 
familiar  with  the  action- adventure  school  of  pulp  writing,  teaching 
them  and  developing  them  into  science  fiction  writers.  He  naturally 
augmented  these  writers  with  those  more  closely  identified  with 
science  fiction,  Ray  Cummings,  Murray  Leinster,  Jack  Williamson, 
Nat  Schachner,  Capt.  S.  P.  Meek,  etc. 

By  the  time  the  Clayton  era  came  to  a  close.  Astounding  had  been 
built  up  by  Harry  Bates  to  a  commanding  position  in  the  field.  Bates 
was  just  on  the  verge  of  expanding  the  horizons  of  Astounding,  moving 
away  from  the  pattern  Astounding  had  established  in  its  three  years  of 
existence,  when  the  Clayton  chain  suddenly  folded. 

When  Street  &  Smith  took  over  the  defunct  Astounding  and  put  F. 
Orlin  Tremaine  in  command,  a  new  era  in  the  development  of  Astound¬ 
ing  was  begun.  In  comparison  with  the  Clayton  Astounding,  the  Street 
&  Smith  Astounding  soon  achieved  an  elegance  in  its  physical  appearance 
never  equaled  by  its  predecessor,  in  the  quality  of  its  paper,  the  heavier 
cover  stock,  profusion  of  interior  illustrations,  increased  pages  and 
wordage,  etc.  It  also  attracted  more  of  the  big  name  (by  that  time) 
writers  in  the  field.  This  was  not  necessarily  because  Street  &  Smith 
was  that  much  more  wealthy  a  publishing  house  than  was  Clayton  in  its 
hey-day,  or  because  Tremaine  was  a  better  editor  than  Bates.  It  was 
due,  in  large  part,  to  the  fact  that  Astounding  was  paying  one  cent  a 
word  on  acceptance  to  authors.  How  could  one  cent  a  word  attract 
more  of  the  leading  authors  in  the  field,  encourage  them  to  submit  their 
best  work  to  Tremaine  ?  Simple:  the  other  two  magazines  in  the  field 
were  paying  fractions  of  a  cent,  as  low  as  one-tenth  of  a  cent  a  word 
on  publication.  Even  paying  half  as  much  as  Bates  did,  Tremaine  was 
paying  his  authors  considerably  more  than  the  other  magazines. 

The  type  of  science  fiction  published  in  the  first  years  of  the  Tremaine 
Astounding  was  not,  actually,  too  much  different  from  that  presented 
by  Bates.  In  spite  of  the  thought  variant  policy,  action  was  still  very 
much  in  evidence.  But  even  so,  the  Astounding  brand  of  science  fiction 
was  beginning  to  evolve  into  something  new  and  fresh.  Campbell,  with 
his  Don  A.  Stuart  stories,  Weinbaum,  C.  L.  Moore,  and  other  lesser 
lights  were  beginning  to  demonstrate  that  science  fiction  could  still  be 
exciting  while  at  the  same  time  being  more  than  competently  written 
pulp  fiction.  Astounding  was  attracting  more  and  better  writers,  and 
with  each  succeeding  year  new  ideas,  new  themes  were  being  added  to 
the  mystique  of  science  fiction.  Writers  had  tradition  now  to  draw  on; 
could  add  to,  could  expand  on,  give  a  new  twist  to  established  ideas. 
New  ideas,  new  treatments,  totally  new  themes  were  beginning  to  be 
explored  as  the  Tremaine  era  neared  its  end.  A  rich  vein  of  science 
fiction  was  waiting  to  be  opened  up. 

Tremaine,  however,  was  not  the  man  to  develop  and  exploit  this 
potential  bonanza.  Tremaine  was  first  and  foremost  a  pulp  magazine 
editor,  and  only  secondarily  a  science  fiction  editor.  His  labors  and 


184 


ALVA  ROGERS 


interests  were  spread  over  five  or  six  magazines,  one  of  which  was 
Astounding.  Tremaine  made  his  magazine  attractive  to  writers  as  a 
market  for  their  stories  with  his  higher  rates  and  his  willingness  to 
accept  new  and  even  off-beat  ideas.  The  authors  responded  with  their 
best  efforts.  Tremaine  built  Astounding  to  the  leading  position  in  the 
field,  not  only  in  circulation,  but  in  quality  and  in  influence.  It  was  a 
tremendously  exciting  magazine  during  most  of  Tremaine’s  editorship, 
apparently  moving  ever  onward  and  upward,  until  toward  the  end  when 
it  suddenly  seemed  to  begin  to  drift  around  aimlessly. 

When  John  W.  Campbell,  Jr.  took  over  the  editor’s  chair  of  Astound¬ 
ing  late  in  1937,  he  took  over  a  magazine  that  was  the  established 
leader  in  the  field,  but  one  that  was  beginning  to  show  alarming  evidence 
of  inertia.  Campbell  had  several  qualities  to  commend  him  in  his  new 
job:  he  was  first  of  all,  and  most  importantly,  a  science  fiction  writer 
himself,  a  writer  of  proven  talent  fully  conversant  with  every  aspect  of 
the  field;  he  was  young  and  enthusiastic  and  believed  in  the  validity  of 
science  fiction  as  a  literary  form;  he  had  a  thorough  educational  ground¬ 
ing  in  the  physical  sciences,  and  an  open  and  inquiring  mind  in  other 
directions;  he  had  the  respect  of  other  writers  in  the  field.  All  this 
he  brought  to  his  new  job  with  the  determination  to  maintain  Astound¬ 
ing’s  leadership  while  at  the  same  time  exploring  new  avenues,  de- 
veloping  new  writers,  establishing  new  maturity  in  science  fiction. 

Although  Campbell  is  quite  rightly  regarded  as  the  man  primarily 
responsible  for  modern  science  fiction,  it  might  be  well  to  ponder  the 
words  of  a  man  almost  unknown  to  the  majority  of  present-day  science 
fiction  readers  except  as  the  author  of  a  handful  of  early  classic 
science  fiction  stories,  the  first  editor  of  Astounding,  Harry  Bates: 

It  seems  very  hard  for  people  to  realize  that  history  is  a 
developing  process.  Modern  science  fiction  was  ^  bom  when 
Campbell  first  sat  at  the  editorial  desk:  we,  who  went  before 
him,  built  with  our  labor  and  sweat  his  editorial  desk,  and 
helped  build  a  group  of  readers  ready  for  his  kind  of  magazine 
at  a  time  when  they  were  able  to  buy  it.  (April,  1962) 

The  great,  the  unforgettable  period  of  Astounding’s  Golden  Age 
couldn’t  have  been  without  all  the  wild  and  wonderful  science  fiction 
that  preceded  it,  that  provided  the  firm  base  on  which  to  build.  The 
writers  identified  with  the  Golden  Age,  Simak,  Sturgeon,  van  Vogt, 
Heinlein,  Kuttner,  Russell,  Asimov,  all  the  rest,  couldn’t  have  written 
the  stories  they  did  without  the  groimdwork  having  been  laid  for  them 
during  all  the  years  before. 

Campbell  hit  his  stride  in  late  1939  and  1940,  in  the  last  dying  days 
of  the  depression  and  the  beginning  of  the  national  defense  boom.  The 
world  was  In  a  ferment,  new  breakthroughs  in  science  and  technology 
were  occuring  almost  daily,  the  mysteries  surrounding  the  atom  were 
being  slowly,  but  inexorably  peeled  back,  the  science  of  flight  was 
accelerating  with  the  increasing  threat,  and  then  the  onset  of  war;  and 
Campbell  took  advantage  of  all  this,  and  more,  in  flogging  his  writers 
into  making  every  effort  to  update  their  ideas  and  develop  maturity  of 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  185 

outlook.  The  great  stories  that  overflow  the  pages  of  Astounding  during 
the  greater  part  of  the  forties  testify  to  the  almost  perfect  symbiosis 
that  existed  between  Campbell  and  most  of  his  writers  during  this  era. 

At  this  point  it  again  becomes  necessary  to  remind  the  reader  that 
this  book  is  in  no  way  intended  to  be  an  exhaustive  or  definitive  history 
of  Astounding.  Although  my  interest  in  science  fiction  is  still  strong 
to  this  day,  and  I  read  and  collect  it,  and  know  full  well  that  in  literary 
terms  the  science  fiction  found  today  in  Campbell’s  Analog  is  gener¬ 
ally  better  than  that  of  the  Golden  Age,  and  considerably  mperior  to 
that  of  the  thirties,  my  principal  interest  in  science  fiction  is  now  an 
antiquarian  interest. 

The  first  twenty  years  of  Astounding  have  been  dealt  with  at  great 
length  because,  as  stated  in  the  preface,  I  have  a  strong,  a  nostalgic 
interest  in  that  period,  and  also  because  many  present-day  readers  of 
science  fiction  have  a  desire  to  know  at  least  a  hint  of  what  went  before. 
Contrary  to  what  some  people  might  think,  this  interest  in  Astounding’s 
past  in  no  way  ignores  the  genuine  quality  of  today’s  Analog.  The 
reader  of  today’s  mature  science  fiction,  as  exemplified  particularly 
in  Analog,  is  enjoying  a  high  level  science  fiction  that  wouldn’t  be  if  it 
hadn’t  been  for  the  steady  development  that  took  place  in  preceding  years . 

The  aficionado  of  a  specialized  literary  form  such  as  science  fiction 
or  detective  fiction  is  usually  not  content  to  simply  read  and  enjoy  the 
contemporary  output  in  the  field ;  he  has  also  a  natural  curiosity  about 
the  past.  He  wants  to  know  what  the  magazine  (in  this  case,  of  course. 
Astounding)  was  like  in  the  old  days,  what  writers  were  popular,  the 
type  of  science  fiction  they  were  writing,  when  they  started,  when  they 
quit,  when  the  great  stories  appeared,  what  the  magazine  looked  like, 
how  it  was  illustrated.  In  short,  like  any  knowledgeable  buff,  he  wants 
to  know  as  much  about  the  subject  as  he  can  find  out. 

It  is  in  an  attempt  to  satisfy  this  natural  curiosity  that  this  book  has 
been  primarily  devoted  to  the  first  twenty  years  of  Astounding.  Most 
serious  science  fiction  fans  have  at  least  a  general  knowledge  of 
Astounding  as  it  was  during  the  fifties,  have  most  of  the  issues  of  the 
magazine.  But  as  they  go  further  back  in  time  it  becomes  increasingly 
more  difficult  to  find  the  old  issues  of  the  magazine, and  when  they  are 
found  they  are  frequently  quite  expensive.  While  this  book  can  in  no 
way  be  a  substitute  for  a  complete  file  of  Astounding,  it  can  materially 
aid  in  filling  in  the  gaps  in  knowledge  many  newer  readers  have,  give 
them  an  awareness  of  the  magazine’s  rich  past,  and  enhance  their 
appreciation  of  modern  science  fiction. 

Modern  science  fiction  can  be  considered  to  have  begun  in  1950.  No 
attempt  will  be  made,  in  the  few  pages  remaining,  to  give  more  than  a 
brief  review  of  the  last  ten  years  of  Astounding  Science  Fiction.  With¬ 
out  denigrating  the  present  in  any  way  (and  in  terms  of  the  total  life  of 
Astounding  the  period  from  1950  on  can  be  considered  part  of  the 
present)  the  purpose  in  writing  this  book  is  to  explore  and  illuminate 
the  past,  and  by  so  doing  relate  modem  science  fiction,  the  science 
fiction  John  W.  Campbell  gives  us  in  Analog,  to  that  past. 


CHAPTER  XV 


MATURITY:  1950 


1  stoundlng  came  of  age  in  the  fifties,  put  behind  its  ado- 
A  lescent  awkwardnesses  and  donned  the  mantle  of  maturity. 
As  the  second  half  of  the  twentieth  century  opened.  Astound¬ 
ing  was  the  only  magazine  consistently  presenting  “adult” 
science  fiction;  not  necessarily  in  terms  of  themes  or  ideas, 
but  more  in  the  handling  of  these  themes  and  ideas  from  an  adult  view¬ 
point. 

In  the  fifties.  Astounding  seemed  almost  jewel-like  in  its  perfection. 
It  was  printed  on  a  fine  quality  of  pulp  paper  that  became  increasingly 
more  slick  as  the  decade  wore  on;  the  t3rpe  face  used  was  clean  and 
sharp,  eminently  readable;  the  general  makeup  restrained,  yet  dy¬ 
namic.  The  covers  were,  almost  without  exception,  tastefully  executed 
if  not  always  outstanding.  The  interior  art,  however,  suffered  its  usual 
vicissitudes,  plummeting  from  the  high  of  Rogers  and  Cartier  in  the 
early  years  of  the  decade,  throi:^h  Kelly  Freas  in  the  middle  years, 
technically  a  superb  artist  but  one  who  was  too  prone  to  cartooning, 
down  to  van  Dongen  who  dominated  the  later  years,  an  artist  who  was 
slickly  flashy  on  the  surface,  but  fundamentally  amateurish  and  pa¬ 
thetically  unable  to  draw  a  human  figure  even  as  well  as  Wesso. 

There  were  many  fine,  and  some  excellent  stories  published  during 
the  fifties,  the  best  of  which  soon  saw  reprinting  in  the  avalanche  of 
anthologies  that  came  out  during  the  big  boom,  or  as  hardback  or  paper¬ 
back  novels.  There  were  a  number  of  small  changes  in  the  physical 
appearance  of  the  magazine  made  during  the  fifties,  but  the  major 
changes  occurred  in  the  fiction  itself.  The  science  base  of  the  science 
fiction  found  in  Astounding  in  its  last  decade  was  less  and  less  the 
hard  sciences  of  physics,  mathematics,  chemistry,  etc.,  and  more  and 
more  the  less  precise  sciences  of  anthropology,  sociology— and  even 
less  precise,  parapsychology  or  psionics.  The  broadening  of  scientific 
knowledge  and  accelerating  advances  in  technology  that  had  followed 

186 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  187 

the  war  made  an  embarrassingly  large  amoimt  of  earlier  science 
fiction  virtually  obsolete;  it  seemed  to  some  that  science  fiction  could 
no  longer  claim  to  be  in  advance  of  mundane  science,  that  science  had 
caught  up  with  and  was  pulling  ahead  of  science  fiction. 

Science  fiction  had,  on  the  whole,  become  respectable  by  the  fifties. 
Since  the  end  of  the  war,  which  ushered  in  the  Atomic  Age,  and  before 
the  fifties  began,  commercial  television,  transistors,  electronic  com¬ 
puters,  jet  aircraft,  missiles  and  many  other  wonders  were  already 
household  words.  As  the  fifties  advanced  so  did  science  and  technology. 
In  1957  the  first  satellite  put  into  a  free  orbit  around  the  Earth  was 
launched  by  the  Soviets,  and  by  the  end  of  the  decade  the  space  between 
the  Earth  and  the  moon  was  criss-crossed  and  interlaced  with  satellites. 
All  this  had  in  one  way  or  another  been  forecast  by  science  fiction,  but 
the  forecasts  had  now  become  reality,  and  science  was  on  the  threshold 
of  even  greater  things,  interplanetary— even  interstellar— travel,  the 
physical  exploration  of  the  planets,  the  elimination  of  killing  diseases, 
even  the  conquest  of  old  age  and  death. 

What  scientific  areas  were  left  for  science  fiction  to  probe  into,  to 
speculate  on?  The  old  themes  were  still  fertile  ones  on  which  to  build 
variations,  of  course,  and  would  continue  to  provide  the  basic  inspira¬ 
tions  for  the  best  stories.  However,  since  Heinlein,  these  themes  alone 
were  not  enough;  to  elevate  it  above  the  pedestrian  level  an  inter¬ 
planetary  tale,  or  a  time  travel  story,  or  a  robot  yam,  or  what-have- 
you,  had  to  include  some  element  of  at  least  sociology  or  anthropology 
as  a  secondary  or  even  a  primary  theme. 

This  problem  of  finding  undeveloped  themes  for  science -fictional 
exploitation  was  a  real  one  for  an  editor  of  Campbell’s  temper.  The 
hard  sciences  had  been  worked  over  and  over  until  they  were  on  the 
verge  of  becoming  sterile  and  nonproductive.  Real  science  seemed  to 
be  stealing  science  fiction’s  thunder.  Extrapolation  on  the  social 
sciences,  politics,  anthropology,  etc.,  provided  a  partial  answer,  but 
Campbell  felt  he  needed  something  really  challenging  to  compete  with 
the  real  world. 

How  about  the  challenge  of  that  great  terra  incognita,  the  vast  un¬ 
known  areas  of  the  human  mind?  Hmmm  . ,  .Dr.  J.  B.  Rhine  of  Duke 
University,  one  of  Campbell’s  old  alma  maters,  had  for  over  twenty 
years  been  conducting  some  promising  experiments  in  Extrasensory 
Perception  (ESP).  And  in  the  past  a  number  of  stories  centered  on 
this  theme  had  been  popular  with  the  fans,  the  Lensman  stories  of  E. 
E .  Smith,  the  Baldy  stories  of  Padgett,  the  Humanoid  stories  of  Jack 
Williamson,  “Sian”  by  van  Vogt,  “I^st  Legion,”  by  Lyle  Monroe 
(Robert  A. Heinlein), from  Super  Science  (November,  1941),  and  others. 

True,  these  stories  were  all  highly  popular  with  the  fans .  But  un¬ 
fortunately,  this  theme  was  greatly  overexploited  in  the  fifties,  both  in 
fiction  and  in  “fact.”  Once  it  became  known  that  Campbell  was  re¬ 
ceptive  to  stories  dealing  with  psionics  the  dam  burst  and  for  years 
Astounding  was  flooded  with  psionic  fiction— most  of  it  second  rate 
fiction  by  second  rate  authors.  And  in  the  realm  of  so-called  “fact” 


ALVA  ROGERS 


the  editor  got  quite  carried  away,  first  with  dianetics,  then  with  ESP 
generally,  then  with  Hieronymous  machines  and  dowsing  rods  specifi¬ 
cally,  in  his  editorials  and  in  many  articles  featured  in  the  magazine, 
not  to  mention  letters  in  “Brass  Tacks.” 

This  over-emphasis  on  psionics  is  considered  by  many  fans  to  be 
the  greatest  single  flaw  in  an  otherwise  fine  magazine  during  the  fifties. 

1950  was  the  year  in  which  the  “science”  of  dianetics  was  revealed 
to  a  breathlessly  awaiting  world  in  the  pages  of  Astounding.  Although 
this  new  “science  of  the  mind”  was  probably  the  single  most  sensational 
event  of  the  year,  not  only  in  Astounding,  but  in  the  field  generally, 
science  fiction  was  still  ostensibly  the  main  business  of  Astounding 
and  it  is  with  the  fiction  that  weTl  deal  with  first,  briefly. 

L.  Ron  Hubbard’s  primary  fictional  contribution  to  the  field  in  1950 
was  a  fine  two-part  short  novel  beginning  in  February,  “To  the  Stars,” 
which  told  of  the  sacrifices  man  would  have  to  make  once  he  became 
an  interstellar  traveler.  A.  E.  van  Vogt  wound  up  the  “Clane”  series 
with  what  was.  Incidentally,  his  last  appearance  in  Astoimding:  “The 
Wizard  of  Linn,”  a  three-part  novel  starting  in  April.  This  was  by  far 
the  best  of  the  “child  of  the  gods”  series  which  saw  Lord  Clane  of  Linn 
win  out  over  the  interstellar  invaders,  the  Riss  (with  the  help  of  the 
barbarian  leader,  Czinczar),  and  win  political  control  of  the  Linnan 
Empire  by  becoming  at  last  the  Lord  Leader  of  Linn.  This  and  the 
Hubbard  novel  were  beautifully  illustrated  by  Rogers  on  interiors  and 
with  covers. 

This  same  April  issue  which  presented  the  last  major  work  in 
Astounding  of  one  of  the  stellar  giants  of  the  Golden  Age,  presented  the 
first  segment  of  a  major  series  by  one  of  the  stellar  giants  of  the 
Modem  Age,  “Okie,”  by  James  Blish.  Blish  was  one  of  the  growing 
army  of  science  fiction  fans,  active  in  the  late  thirties  and  early 
forties,  who  had  graduated  to  professionalism.  He  had  been  writing  off 
and  on  with  moderate  success  since  1940,  but  “Okie”  marked  his 
emergence  as  a  mature  writer  with  great  promise .  This  promise  was 
realized  in  the  years  ahead  and  was  recognized  by  the  fans  in  a  tangible 
fashion  in  1959  and  1960.  In  1959  his  novel,  A  Case  of  Conscience 
(Ballantine,  1958),  was  awarded  the  Hugo  for  the  best  novel  of  1958  at 
the  17th  World  Science  Fiction  Convention  (1959)  in  Detroit,  and  in 
1960  James  Blish  was  Guest  of  Honor  at  the  18th  World  Science  Fiction 
Convention  in  Pittsburgh. 

“Okie”  told  of  a  time  in  the  far  future  when  entire  cities  and  their 
populations  roamed  the  stars  as  interstellar  “Okies,”  selling  their 
services  to  whoever  would  buy.  With  the  invention  of  the  spindizzy,  an 
antigravitic  propulsive  device,  it  was  now  possible  for  cities  to  change 
their  physical  locations  at  will,  not  only  on  Earth  but  throughout  inter¬ 
stellar  space.  Somewhat  coincidental  with  the  discovery  of  the  spin- 
dizzy  field  was  the  discovery  of  anti-agathic  drugs  to  ward  off  death 
and  prolong  life  indefinitely,  which  made  the  long  interstellar  journeys 
of  the  nomad  cities  feasible.  The  city  involved  in  “Okie,”  and  most  of 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


the  other  stories  in  the  series  is 
New  York,  guided  by  its  wise  and 
resourceful  mayor,  John  Amalfi 
and  the  city  manager,  Mark 
Hazleton.  The  whole  series,  when 
completed,  covers  a  span  of  2,000 
years,  and  constitutes  a  major 
contribution  to  the  literature  of 
science  fiction. 

This  excellent  and  exciting  tale 
(which  took  second  place  to  van 
Vogt  in  the  “Analytical  Labora¬ 
tory”)  was  followed  in  December 
with  a  sequel,  “Bindlestiff,”  the 
cover  story.  In  this  story,  Man¬ 
hattan  crosses  the  Rift,  discovers 
the  planet  He,  a  “Bindlestiff”  city, 
one  of  the  rare  cities  that  operate 
outside  the  law,  preying  on  other 
cities  and  planets;  wages  a  suc¬ 
cessful  battle  against  the  Bindle¬ 
stiff  city,  and  for  good  and  suffi¬ 
cient  reasons  tip  the  axis  of  the 
planet  of  He  by  means  of  strategic¬ 
ally  placed  spindizzies  and  sends 
it  coursing  across  intergalactic 
space.  An  excellent  story,  an 
even  better  story  than  the  first, 
and  one  that  firmly  established 
James  Blish  as  a  writer  of  grow¬ 
ing  stature. 

The  December  issue  also  con¬ 
tained  another  memorable  story, 
“A  Subway  Named  Mobius,”  by  A. 
J.  Deutsch.  This  was  the  well- 
known  tale  of  the  train  that  got 
lost  on  the  complex  Boston  subway 
system.  The  story  itself  was 
negligible,  but  the  idea  was  a 
honey  and,  no  doubt  to  a  Bostonian, 
disturbingly  plausible. 

The  cover  for  this  issue  illus¬ 
trated  Blish’s  story  and  was  the 
fifty-third  and  last  cover  painted 

April,  1950;  “Okie,  ”  by  James 

Blish,  illustration  by  Rogers. 


190 


ALVA  ROGERS 


for  Astoimding  by  William  Timmins.  Happily,  it  was,  for  Timmins, 
one  of  his  better  paintings. 

The  last  three  of  L.  Sprague  de  Camp’s  Viagens  Interplai^tarias 
stories  to  appear  in  Astounding  were  presented  this  year,  “The  In- 
spector’s  Teeth”  (April),  “Git  Along!  ”  (August),  and  a  four -part  serial, 
“The  Hand  of  Zei”  (October/ January,  1951).  In  all  there  were  fifteen 
“Krishna”  stories,  all  published  between  1949  and  1953  except  for 
“The  Tower  of  Zanid”  which  appeared  as  a  four -part  serial  in  Science 
Fiction  Stories  (May/ August,  1958).  Six  of  this  total  were  published  in 
Astounding  where  it  all  began  with  “The  Animal-Cracker  Plot”  in 
July,  ld49. 

“The  Inspector’s  Teeth”  was  chronologically  the  first  of  the  “Viagens” 
stories  and  told  of  the  accomplishment  of  a  young  Osirian  student  at  an 
Earth  university  in  recovering  the  false  teeth  of  the  Osirian  Chief  In¬ 
spector  Ficesaqha  which  had  been  brought  back  to  Earth  and  presented 
to  Atlantic  University  by  de  Camara,  the  founder  of  Viagens  Inter- 
planetarias  and  the  first  Earthman  to  set  foot  on  Osiris.  The  story  of 
the  young  Osirian  student  Hithasefea  and  his  sentimental  regard  for 
the  Inspector’s  teeth  was  related  to  some  very  high  Earth  officials  by 
the  Osirian  ambassador  to  explain  why  he  was  willing  to  sign  an  agree¬ 
ment  with  Earth  which  would  lead  to  the  forming  of  the  Interplanetary 
Council.  The  ambassador  was,  of  course,  the  self-same  young  student, 
Hithasefea.  “Git  Along!  *  was  a  slight  but  entertaining  tale  of  an  Earth¬ 
ling  confidence  man  on  Osiris  who  starts  a  dude  ranch  for  Osirians  on 
that  planet. 

“The  Hand  of  Zei”  takes  place  on  Krishna  in  2143  A.D,,  the  second 
century  of  Earth’s  contact  with  Krishna.  The  hero  of  this  yarn  is  Dirk 
Bamevelt,  ghost-writer  for  the  famous  explorer  Igor  Shtain,  who  is 
sent  to  Krishna  to  look  for  Shtain  when  the  explorer  mysteriously  dis¬ 
appears.  Barnevelt  is  a  shy  young  ex-schoolteacher  with  a  mother 
complex  who  comes  alive  and  discovers  his  manhood  on  the  wild  planet 
of  Krishna  as  he  searches  for  Shtain  and  woos  the  princess  Zei,  a 
beautiful  young  Krishnan  who,  it  turns  out  in  the  end,  is  really  an 
Earthwoman.  This  was  a  story  of  high  adventure,  pure  entertainment. 
In  New  Frontiers  (December,  1959;  “The  Krishna  Stories”),  a  semi- 
professional  magazine  published  and  edited  by  Norman  Metcalf,  L. 
Sprague  de  Camp  characterized  the  “Krishna”  stories  as  “...pure 
entertainment  in  the  form  of  light,  humorous,  swashbuckling,  inter¬ 
planetary  adventure-romances — a  sort  of  sophisticated  Burroughs-type 
(Martian)  story,  more  carefully  thought  out  than  their  prototypes.” 
“The  Hand  of  Zei”  was  a  perfect  example  of  this. 

This,  and  the  other  two  “Krishna”  stories  published  this  year  were 
delightfuUy  illustrated  by  Edd  Cartier  who  also  painted  the  cover  for 
the  first  installment  of  “The  Hand  of  Zei”  (October),  a  lovely  thing  and 
the  only  cover  painted  by  him  for  Astoimding. 

Other  stories  of  more  than  passing  interest  were  “New  Foundations,” 
by  Wilmar  H.  Shiras,  the  cover  story  for  March  and  the  final  sequel  to 
“In  Hiding”  published  in  Astounding;  “Last  Enemy,”  by  H.Beam  Piper, 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


191 


a  Paratime  Police  story  which  took  the  August  cover  by  Miller;  “The 
Lion  and  the  Lamb,”  by  Fritz  Leiber  (no  longer  “Jr.”),  a  fine  inter¬ 
planetary  tale  which  was  alsoLeiber’s  first  story  for  Astounding  since 
“Destiny  Times  Three”  in  March  and  April,  1945;  James  H.  Schmitz’ 
“The  Truth  About  Cushgar”  in  November,  another  Agent  of  Vega  story 
and  well  up  to  par  with  the  first  two. 

Cyril  M.  Kornbluth  saw  his  first  story  in  Astounding  published  in 
July,  “The  Little  Black  Bag.”  This  was  the  novelette  about  the  wondrous 
doctor’s  bag  found  by  the  old  wino.  Dr.  Full,  the  magic  it  contained, 
how  it  affected  the  old  doctor’s  life,  and  how  it  quite  imwittingly  avenged 
his  death.  This  was  Kombluth’s  second  story;  his  first  was  a  short 
story,  “The  Only  Thing  We  Learn”  in  the  July,  1949  Startling 
Stories.  These  two  stories  were  the  first  published  under  Kornbluth’s 
real  name. 

In  the  early  forties,  Kornbluth  became  a  living  legend  before  he 
reached  the  age  of  twenty.  In  the  span  of  approximately  two  years,  or 
at  the  most  two-and-a-half,  he  produced  a  phenomenal  number  of 
stories  for  one  so  young,  under  a  seemingly  endless  number  of  pseudo¬ 
nyms,  the  most  famous  being  3.  D.  Gottesman,  Cecil  Corwin,  and 
Kenneth  Falconer.  His  best  known  stories  of  this  period  were  “The 
Words  of  Guru,”  by  Kenneth  Falconer  (Stirring  Science  Stories,  Jime, 
1941);  “Kazam  Collects,”  by  S.D.  Gottesman  (Stirring  Science  Stories, 
June,  1941);  “Mr.  Packer  Goes  to  Hell,”  by  Cecil  Corwin  (Stirring 
Science  Stories,  June,  1941.  All  three  in  the  same  issue!);  “Thirteen 
O’clock,”  by  Cecil  Corwin  (Stirring  Science  Stories,  February,  1941) 
and  “The  City  in  the  Sofa,”  by  Cecil  Corwin  (Cosmic  Stories,  July, 
1941).  In  the  fifties,  Kornbluth  rose  rapidly  to  the  top  level  of  science 
fiction  writers,  turning  out  an  impressive  number  of  first  rate  stories 
on  his  own  and  in  collaboration  with  others,  most  particularly  his  good 
friend  and  earlier  collaborator,  Frederik  Pohl.  Kornbluth  died,  sud¬ 
denly  and  unexpectedly,  in  March,  1958  at  the  age  of  thirty-four. 

The  May  issue  had  two  outstanding  stories,  the  cover  novelette  by 
Poul  Anderson,  “The  Helping  Hand,”  and  a  short  story  by  Jack  Vance, 
“The  Potters  of  Firsk.”  Anderson’s  story  was  an  excellent  example 
of  the  type  he  is  pre-eminent  at,  a  rousing  tale  infused  with  his  own 
trenchant  commentary  on  socio-political  themes.  In  “The  Helping 
Hand”  he  shows  what  happens  to  two  planetary  systems,  one  of  which 
accepts  cultural  and  economic  assistance  from  the  Commonwealth  of 
Sol,  the  other,  a  rugged,  barbaric  system,  refusing  it.  Vance’s  story 
tells  of  the  potters  of  the  planet  Firsk  who  are  unrivalled  anywhere  in 
the  known  universe  in  the  fabrication  of  ceramics,  and  of  the  special 
element  necessary  to  the  composition  of  their  superb  pottery. 

In  the  mid-forties.  Amazing  Stories,  under  the  editorship  of  Raymond 
A.  Palmer,  exploited  a  series  of  stories  by  Richard  S.  Shaver,  known 
collectively  under  the  title  of  “The  Shaver  Mystery,”  by  asserting  that 
they  were  based  on  fact.  The  first  of  the  Shaver  stories  was  “I  Re¬ 
member  Lemuria”  in  the  March,  1945  Amazing  which  was  a  mish¬ 
mash  of  racial  memory,  super-science,  and  a  race  of  degenerate 


192 


ALVA  ROGERS 


Lemurians  who  are  inimical  to  man  existing  today  in  caves.  Palmer 
to  this  day  insists  that  Shaver  is  right,  that  “Deros”  do  exist  in  a 
honeycomb  of  caves,  and  interfere  in  the  lives  of  men  and  in  the  course 
of  events  by  means  of  rays  projected  to  the  surface.  Palmer’s  in¬ 
sistence  that  the  Shaver  stories  were  essentially  true  alienated  most 
fans  and  was  believed  in  only  by  credulous  adolescents  and  by  what  can 
only  be  described  as  the  crackpot  fringe  of  science  fiction  fandom. 
The  “Shaver  Mystery”  remains  the  outstanding  example  yet  of  the 
editorial  “over-enthusiasm”  used  to  bring  attention  to  a  magazine  in 
an  effort  to  build  circulation.  However,  many  (not  all,  by  any  means) 
fans  are  of  the  opinion  that  Campbell  ran  Palmer  a  close  second  in  1950 . 

Toward  the  end  of  1949  there  were  rumors  circulating  aroimd  that 
L.  Ron  Hubbard  was  coming  out  with  something  sensational  in  the  near 
future,  but  what  it  was  to  be  no  one  knew,  or  if  they  did  they  weren’t 
saying.  In  the  April,  1950  “In  Times  to  Come”  Campbell  announced: 

Next  month’s  issue  will,  I  believe,  cause  one  full-scale  ex¬ 
plosion  across  the  country.  We  are  carrying  a  sixteen- thousand 
word  article  entitled  “Dianetics  ...  An  Introduction  to  a  New 
Science,”  by  L.  Ron  Hubbard.  It  will,  I  believe,  be  the  first 
publication  of  the  material.  It  is,  I  assure  you,  in  full  and 
absolute  sincerity,  one  of  the  most  important  articles  ever 
published.  In  this  article,  reporting  on  Hubbard’s  own  research 
into  the  engineering  question  of  how  the  human  mind  operates, 
immensely  important  basic  discoveries  are  related .  Among  them: 

A  technique  of  psychotherapy  has  been  developed  which  will 
cure  any  insanity  not  due  to  organic  destruction  of  the  brain. 

A  technique  that  gives  any  man  a  perfect,  indelible,  total 
memory,  and  perfect,  errorless  ability  to  compute  his  problems. 

A  basic  answer,  and  a  technique  for  curing— not  alleviating— 
ulcers,  arthritis,  asthma,  and  many  other  nongerm  diseases. 

A  totally  new  conception  of  the  truly  incredible  ability  and 
power  of  the  human  mind. 

Evidence  that  insanity  is  contagious,  and  is  not  hereditary. 

Campbell  continues  with  his  buildup;  “This  is  no  wild  theory.  It  is 
not  mysticism.  It  is  a  coldly  precise  engineering  description  of  how 
the  human  mind  operates,  and  how  to  go  about  restoring  correct  opera¬ 
tion  tested  and  used  on  some  two  hundred  fifty  cases.  And  it  makes 
only  one  overall  claim:  the  methods  logically  developed  from  that 
description  work.  The  memory  stimulation  technique  is  so  powerful 
that,  within  thirty  minutes  of  entering  therapy,  most  people  will  recall 
in  full  detail  their  own  birth.  I  have  observed  it  in  action,  and  used 
the  techniques  myself.” 

The  article,  when  it  appeared  in  the  May,  1950  issue,  did  indeed 
cause  a  full-scale  explosion.  Hubbard’s  article  painted  a  glorious 
picture  of  how  every  man,  with  a  few  hours  of  therapy,  could  become  a 
“clear”  and  in  effect  a  totally  sane  person.  And  in  addition  it  indicated 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


that  anyone  could,  after  reading  Hubbard’s  book  (Dianetics:  The  Modern 
Science  of  Mental  Health — Manual  of  Dianetic  Therapy,  published  by 
Hermitage  House,  New  York  City,  simultaneously  with  the  Astounding 
article)  and  going  through  a  course  of  therapy,  become  a  qualified 
Dianetics  therapist — or  “auditor” — regardless  of  whether  or  not  one 
had  any  fundamental  knowledge  of  medicine,  or  even  of  the  physiology 
of  the  human  body  or  the  complexity  of  the  human  mind.  The  Astound¬ 
ing  article,  and  the  “science”  of  dianetics,  was  given  a  quasi-medical 
legitimacy  by  being  introduced  with  a  wholly  unprofessionally  en¬ 
thusiastic  endorsement  by  Joseph  A.  Winter,  M.D.  However,  the  medi¬ 
cal  profession  wasn’t  buying  Hubbard’s  engineering  approach  to  mental 
therapy,  and  as  the  months  went  by  with  more  and  more  unqualified 
amateurs  becoming  “experts”  in  the  treatment  of  not  only  mental  ills 
but  physical  disorders,  they  really  became  upset  and  alarmed.  Dia¬ 
netics  enjoyed  a  tremendous  success  for  some  time  and  Hubbard  grew 
fat,  but  in  time  the  bubble  burst  and  dianetics  went  out  of  style  for  all 
except  a  few  dedicated  disciples.  But  Hubbard  was  not  to  be  denied: 
with  dianetics  at  a  low  ebb  he  brought  forth  a  higher,  more  advanced 
discipline  built  on  the  basics  of  dianetics,  surrounded  it  with  a  lot  of 
mumbo- jumbo,  and  called  it  Scientology.  Today  L.  Ron  Hubbard  re¬ 
sides  in  England  a  wealthy  man,  the  guiding  genius  and  principle  bene¬ 
ficiary  of  what  many  authorities  consider  one  of  the  most  audacious 
and  successful  medical  “quack”  movements  of  all  time. 

Hubbard  followed  up  his  long  article  with  a  shorter  one,  “The  Ana¬ 
lytical  Mind,”  in  October  and,  by  August,  letters  commenting  on  dia¬ 
netics  began  to  appear  in  “Brass  Tacks.”  According  to  an  editorial 
note  in  the  August  “Brass  Tacks”  some  two  thousand  letters  had  arrived 
in  the  first  two  weeks  following  the  appearance  of  the  article,  and  of 
that  number  only  0.2  per  cent  were  unfavorable.  The  president  of 
Hermitage  House,  the  publisher  of  the  dianetics  handbook,  reported  in 
a  letter  that  the  book  was  selling  at  a  rate  of  one  thousand  copies  a 
day  (at  $4.00)  and  that  all  proceeds,  including  those  from  the  sale  of 
the  special  leather  bound  edition  of  100  copies  at  $25.00  each,  were 
going  to  The  Hubbard  Dianetic  Research  Foxmdation  (of  which  Hubbard 
was  the  president).  And  so  it  went.  Regardless  of  one’s  opinion  as  to 
the  validity  of  Hubbard’s  new  “science,”  the  science  fiction  field  suffer¬ 
ed  two  losses  as  a  direct  result  of  dianetics:  Hubbard  was  now  devot¬ 
ing  all  his  time  and  energy  to  his  Foundation  and  no  longer  wrote 
fiction,  and  A.  E.  van  Vogt  became  a  professional  auditor  and  virtually 
abandoned  the  field  for  almost  fourteen  years,  except  for  an  occasional 
rewriting  of  short  story  series  to  make  them  into  novels,  and  one  or 
two  minor  original  hardcover  novels. 

Many  fans  had  ambivalent  feelings  toward  the  1950  Astoimding:  they 
recognized  and  appreciated  the  fact  that  Campbell  had  raised  the  maga¬ 
zine  to  a  high  level  of  excellence  and  polish,  but  at  the  same  time  they 
had  the  vague  feeling  that  by  achieving  the  relative  level  of  perfection 
and  acceptance  it  had,  Astounding  had  lost  a  good  deal  of  the  dynamic 


194 


ALVA  ROGERS 


quality  inherent  in  the  magazine  of  the  thirties  and  particularly  of  the 
peak  years  of  the  Golden  Age.  There  was  a  static  quality  to  the  maga¬ 
zine  throughout  the  fifties  that  it  had  never  had  before.  The  artwork, 
both  inside  and  on  the  covers,  was  almost  uniformly  good,  but  other 
magazines  of  lesser  prestige— Startling  Stories,  Thrilling  Wonder 
Stories,  Famous  Fantastic  Mysteries,  to  name  three — constantly 
equaled  or  excelled  Astounding  in  interior  artwork,  and  Galaxy,  Fantasy 
and  Science  Fiction,  Famous  Fantastic  Mysteries,  and  others  often 
had  far  better  cover  paintings  than  Astounding!  The  letter  column, 
“Brass  Tacks,”  became,  as  the  decade  progressed,  the  dullest  and 
least  lively  letter  section  in  the  science  fiction  field  with  discussions 
of  the  stories  in  Astounding,  or  discussions  of  science  fiction  ingeneral 
virtually  nonexistent.  But  even  so,  in  the  area  that  was  still  the  most 
important,  the  area  of  the  literature  of  science  fiction,  the  Astounding 
brand  of  science  fiction  still  led  the  field.  However,  in  moving  closer 
to  the  mainstream,  in  presenting  science  fiction  that  was  more  accepta¬ 
ble  to  a  broader  mass  of  readers.  Astounding  seemed  to  many  of  its 
fans  to  be  lacking  in  much  of  the  “gutsy”  quality  it  had  had  in  earlier 
years.  There  were  a  number  of  exceptions  to  this,  of  course,  but  far 
fewer  than  one  would  imagine  over  a  ten  year  span.  One  reason,  possi¬ 
bly,  for  the  fewer  “gutsy”  or  memorable  stories  in  Astounding  during 
the  fifties  was  that  Campbell  no  longer  had  a  monopoly,  or  near 
monopoly,  on  the  best  talent  in  the  field.  Robert  Heinlein,  Isaac  Asimov, 
Poul  Anderson,  Fritz  Leiber,  Henry  Kuttner  and  others  no  longer 
automatically  gave  Campbell  first  look  at  their  best  works,  particularly 
after  Galaxy  Science  Fiction  and  Fantasy  and  Science  Fiction  entered 
the  scene.  In  looking  back  over  the  years  of  Astounding,  a~ peculiar 
phenomenon  is  noticed:  without  referring  to  back  issue  files,  I  find 
that  I  have  little  difficulty  visualizing  the  magazine  during  specific 
years  of  the  thirties  or  the  first  half  of  the  forties,  or  recalling  certain 
memorable  stories  or  issues  of  the  magazine  and  placing  them  in  their 
proper  niche  in  the  time  stream  of  Astounding.  This  doesn’t  hold  true 
with  the  fifties.  One  year  doesn’t  stand  out  above  the  other,  they  all 
flow  together  into  one  homogeneous  mass.  And  while  certain  stories 
stick  in  the  memory,  it  is  exceedingly  difficult  to  say,  without  check¬ 
ing,  that  such-and-such  a  story  appeared  in  such-and-such  a  year,  or 
that  a  particular  year  contained  this  or  that  outstanding  story. 

Astounding  continued  as  a  162  page  magazine  through  1950,  and  the 
price  remained  at  25?.  C.  Tarrant— presently  Kay  Tarrant  in  Analog 
— continued  to  be  listed  on  the  contents  page  as  assistant  editor,  and 
in  June  the  name  of  Walter  J.  McBride  was  added  as  advertising 
manager.  From  February,  1950  on  Campbell  discontinued  listing  the 
call  letters  of  his  ham  radio  station,  W2ZGU,  on  the  contents  page 
under  his  name.  For  several  years  the  address  listed  for  Street  & 
Smith  Publications,  Incorporated,  was  775  Lidgerwood  Avenue,  Eliza¬ 
beth,  New  Jersey,  with  General  and  Executive  offices  at  122  East  42nd 
Street,  New  York  17,  New  York.  In  October  the  entire  Street  &  Smith 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  195 

operation  was  listed  as  originating  from  the  New  York  address.  In 
May,  1951  the  offices  were  moved  to  575  Madison  Avenue,  New  York 
22,  where  they  were  to  remain  for  a  little  better  than  ten  years  when 
they  again  moved,  after  the  sale  of  Street  &  Smith  Publications  to  The 
Conde  Nast  Publications,  Inc.,  to  420  Lexington  Avenue,  New  York, 
New  York  10017. 

There  were  seven  different  artists  used  on  the  covers  during  1950, 
plus  one  photo  cover,  a  scene  from  the  George  Pal  Technicolor  pro¬ 
duction  of  Robert  A.  Heinlein’s  Destination  Moon  used  for  July  to 
illustrate  Heinlein’s  article,  “Shooting  Destination  Moon.”  Bonestell 
had  one  cover  this  year,  a  very  poor  one  for  January  illustrating  Phillip 
Latham’s  (Dr.  R.  S.  Richardson)  “The  Xi  Effect.”  Rogers  had  three; 
February  for  L.  Ron  Hubbard’s  “To  The  Stars,”  March  for  Wilmar  H. 
Shiras,  “New  Foundations,”  and  April  for  A.  E.  van  Vogt’s  “The  Wizard 
of  Linn.”  Brush  had  the  May  cover  for  Poul  Anderson’s  “The  Helping 
Hand.”  Walt  Miller,  a  better  than  average  artist,  was  introduced  with 
the  June  cover  for  Katherine  MacLean’s  fine  story,  “Incommunicado,” 
and  foUowed  it  with  two  more,  the  August  cover  for  “The  Last  Enemy” 
by  H.  Beam  Piper,  and  September  for  Fritz  Leiber’s  “The  Lion  and 
the  Lamb.”  Edd  Cartier  had  his  one  and  only  gem  for  Astoimding  in 
October  for  de  Camp’s  “The  Hand  of  Zei,”  Pattee  had  an  excellent 
symbolic  cover,  titled  “Choice,”  for  November,  and  Timmins’  last, 
and  one  of  his  better  covers  graced  the  December  issue.  Cartier, 
Orban  and  Rogers  were  the  dominant  interior  illustrators,  with  assists 
from  Miller,  Brush,  Ward,  Hicks,  Swanson,  Noyga,  and,  appearing  for 
the  first  time  in  January,  Jack  Gaughan,  one  of  today’s  better  science 
fiction  artists.  Timmins  made  one  appearance  with  interior  art  in  the 
December  issue  for  James  Blish’s  “Bindlestiff,”  for  which  he  also  did 
the  cover,  and,  unfortunately,  Charles  Schneeman  had  illustrations  for 
but  one  story,  “Paradise  Street,”  by  Lawrence  O’Donnell  (C.  L. 
Moore),  in  September. 

The  title  logo  remained  the  same  as  before,  a  small  Astounding  in  a 
running  script  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  with  SCIENCE  FICTION 
in  large  block  letters  directly  below.  In  order  to  give  maximum 
emphasis  to  SCIENCE  FICTION  and  play  down  Astounding,  the  cover 
was  usually  printed  in  such  a  way  that  Astoimding  blended  into  the 
background  painting,  in  some  cases  being  almost  totally  indistinguisha¬ 
ble,  whereas  SCIENCE  FICTION  was  almost  invariably  printed  in  a 
bright  yellow  or  red,  or  a  plain  white,  and  from  a  moderate  distance 
SCIENCE  FICTION  appeared  to  be  the  sole  name  of  the  magazine. 


CHAPTER  XVI 


THE  FINAL  YEARS;  195M959 


With  the  January,  1951  issue,  Astounding  celebrated  its 
twenty-first  birthday.  This  birthday  issue  was  attractively 
covered  with  a  beautiful  symbolic  painting  by  Hubert  Rogers, 
“Achievement,”  the  first  of  seven  covers  Rogers  had  for  the 
year.  Randall  Garrett,  who  was  to  become  one  of  the  lead¬ 
ing  (which  does  not  mean  best)  writers  of  the  fifties  under  his  own 
name  and  as  one-half  of  Robert  Randall  (a  pseudonym  for  the  collabo¬ 
ration  between  Garrett  and  Robert  Silverberg),  had  his  first  story  for 
Astounding  in  this  issue,  “The  Waiting  Game,”  the  lead-off  novelette. 
Also  in  this  number  was  the  third  of  Hubbard’s  articles  on  dianetics, 
“Dianometry,”  which  is  “that  branch  of  dianetics  which  measures 
thought  capacity,  computational  ability  and  the  rationality  of  the  human 
mind.  By  its  axioms  and  tests  can  be  established  the  intelligence,  the 
persistency,  the  ability,  the  aberrations  and  existing  or  potential  in¬ 
sanity  of  an  individual.” 

There  were  a  goodly  number  of  memorable  stories  published  during 
1951,  mostly  in  the  novelette  length  because,  unless  one  counts  the  last 
installment  of  de  Camp’s  “The  Hand  of  Zei”  in  the  January  issue,  there 
was  only  one  serial  published  in  the  year.  Among  the  more  memorable 
novelettes  were  “Space  Fear,”  by  James  H.  Schmitz,  another  in  the 
Agent  of  Vega  series  (March);  ‘The  Philosophical  Corps,”  by  E.  B. 
Cole,  the  first  of  the  series  concerning  that  specialized  arm  of  the 
Stellar  Guard,  the  Philosophical  Corps  whose  duties  far  exceeded  those 
of  merely  apprehending  criminals  (also  in  March);  “Temple  Trouble,” 
another  excellent  Paratime  Police  story  by  H.  Beam  Piper  (April); 
Valter  M.  Miller,  Jr.’s  unforgettable  first  story,  “Izzard  and  the 
Membrane,”  in  which  an  American  cyberneticist,  captured  by  the 
Russians  and  brain-washed  into  building  for  them  a  huge  and  complex 
computer  to  guarantee  the  successful  prosecution  of  the  war  against 
the  United  States ,  built  an  even  better  machine  than  he  initially  planned 


196 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  197 

(May);  “Hunting  Season,”  the  chilling  tale  of  an  authoritarian  future 
America  where  state  criminals  are  stripped  of  what  rights  they  have 
and  turned  loose  like  game  to  be  hunted  by  State  Huntsmen,  marvelously 
told  by  Frank  M.  Robinson,  another  fan-turned-pro  (November);  “Dune 
Roller,”  by  J.  C.  May,  the  story  of  some  beautiful  and  seemingly 
harmless  amber-like  droplets  found  on  the  dunes  flanking  Lake  Michigan. 

Of  more  than  passing  interest  were  two  quite  different  yarns,  H. 
Beam  Piper’s  controversial  “Day  of  the  Moron”  (September),  and  Eric 
Frank  Russell’s  classic  “...And  Then  There  Were  None”  (June). 
Piper’s  story  told  of  the  accelerating  labor  troubles  ending  in  cata¬ 
strophe  plaguing  the  Long  Island  Nuclear  Reaction  Plant— the  villain 
of  the  piece,  in  this  case,  being  a  conscientious  union  shop  steward. 
The  story  was  condemned  by  some  as  anti-labor  and  it  was,  in  a 
sense.  It  was  anti-labor  only  in  so  far  as  it  showed  the  illogic  of 
arbitrary  rules,  union  rules,  being  allowed  to  override  the  judgment  of 
intelligent  men  when  the  arbitrary  reasoning  of  one  man,  backed  by  the 
rules,  affected  the  welfare,  life  or  death  of  many.  Russell’s  story  was 
the  well  known  one  of  the  landing  of  the  mile  long  battleship,  fully 
geared  for  war  or  pacification,  on  the  planet  of  Gand,of  the  frustrating 
reception  they  received,  and  of  the  effect  of  Gandian  passive  resistance 
on  the  crew. 

The  only  serial  published  during  1951  was  “Iceworld,”  by  Hal  Clement, 
his  second  novel.  This  was  a  three-parter  beginning  in  October  which 
tells  of  the  interstellar  narcotics  agent  who  traces  the  source  of  a 
vicious  narcotic  that  is  threatening  to  enslave  his  system  to  an  almost 
unapproachably  bitterly  cold  planet.  The  Planet  of  Ice,  as  the  sxilfur- 
breathing  Sarrians  call  it,  is  actually  Earth,  the  deadly  narcotic,  one 
whiff  of  which  makes  an  addict  of  a  Sarrian,  is  tobacco,  ^ain,  Clement, 
in  this  novel,  demonstrated  his  devotion  to  rigorous  accuracy  and  logic 
in  building  the  scientific  backgrounds  of  his  aliens. 

In  August,  Street  &  Smith  finally  gave  in  to  spiraling  cost  Increases 
and  raised  the  price  of  Astounding  to  35^.  With  this  price  increase 
went  a  bonus  of  eight  slick-paper  pages.  Increasing  the  page  count  to 
170.  These  additional  pages  were  used  for  science  articles  and  allowed 
the  use  of  photographic  illustrations.  In  August  these  added  pages 
were  at  the  back  of  the  book,  but  with  the  September  issue  they  were 
moved  to  the  center.  These  additional  pages  were  retained  (except  for 
May,  1953  when  they  were  left  out)  imtil  August,  1953  when  they  were 
dropped  and  the  page  count  went  back  to  162.  And  the  35^  price  held 
good  until  November,  1959  when  it  went  to  50^double  the  price  at  the 
beginning  of  the  fifties,  and  for  the  same  number  of  pages.  Both  these 
price  increases  had  been  preceded  by  trial  runs  in  selected  parts  of 
the  country  to  determine  the  reaction  of  the  newsstand  buyer  to  the 
higher  price. 

For  several  years  Astounding  had  presented  book  reviews  with 
reasonable  regularity,  written  by  a  number  of  reviewers,  the  most 
frequent  contributor  being  P.  Schuyler  Miller.  In  October,  Astoimding 


198 


ALVA  ROGERS 


instituted  a  new  regular  department,  “The  Reference  Library,”  con¬ 
ducted  by  P.  Schuyler  Miller,  which  has  appeared  regularly  every 
month  since.  This  has  always  been  a  very  popular  feature  with  the 
fans  and  has  generally  been  the  best  source  in  any  media  or  magazine 
for  reviews  and  commentary  of  science  fiction  published  in  book  form. 
“Sky”  Miller  reviews  a  book  in  such  a  manner  as  to  stimulate  interest 
in  the  book  and  to  give  the  reader  the  opportunity  to  form  his  own 
opinion  as  to  whether  or  not  he  might  want  to  acquire  it.  He  is  a  book 
“reviewer,”  not  a  “critic”  in  the  manner  of  Damon  Knight  or  James 
Blish.  An  integral  feature  of  every  “Reference  Library”  is  the  essay 
of  varying  lengths  on  some  aspect  of  science  fiction  that  leads  off  the 
department  and  precedes  the  actual  book  reviews.  It  is  not  stretching 
a  point  to  say  that  Sky  Miller  has  had  a  profound  effect  on  the  reading 
sophistication  of  a  countless  number  of  science  fiction  fans  over  the 
past  twelve  years.  At  the  21st  World  Science  Fiction  Convention  (1963) 
in  Washington,  D.C.,  P.  Schuyler  Miller  was  presented  a  special  Hugo 
award  in  recognition  of  his  service  to  the  literature  of  science  fiction. 

Hubert  Rogers  walked  away  with  all  the  honors  for  covers  this  year 
with  seven  excellent  paintings,  January,  April,  May,  June,  July,  Septem¬ 
ber,  and  December.  The  best  of  these  were  the  May  cover  for  Harry 
Stine’s  “Galactic  Gadgeteers,”  the  September  for  “Day  of  the  Moron,” 
and  the  December  painting  of  a  spaceship,  entitled  “Outward  Boimd.” 
Walt  Miller  had  the  February  cover  for  Raymond  F.  Jones’  “I  Tell  You 
Three  Times,”  Bonestell  for  November  illustrating  the  movie  “When 
Worlds  Collide,”  and  Orban  presented  his  last  cover  in  March  illustrat¬ 
ing  Schmitz’  “Space  Fear.”  In  August  a  new  cover  and  interior  artist 
was  introduced,  van  Dongen.  In  addition  to  the  August  cover  for  “City 
of  the  Phoenix”  by  M.C.  Pease,  van  Dongen  also  did  the  October  cover 
for  Hal  Clement’s  “Iceworld.” 

In  October  there  was  a  minor  modification  made  in  the  title  logo  that 
was  continued  until  February,  1953.  The  script  used  for  Astounding 
was  slightly  altered  and  given  greater  prominence  by  the  use  of  a 
heavier  line,  and  the  words  SCIENCE  FICTION  were  increased  in  size. 
In  February,  1953  Astomdlng  was  increased  slightly  in  size,  while 
SCIENCE  FICTION  remained  the  same.  For  the  March  and  April 
issues  ^toimding  was  given  further  emphasis  and  SCIENCE  FICTION 
was  reduced  to  almost  half  its  former  size.  And  then  with  the  hlay 
issue  the  logo  assumed  the  form  it  was  to  retain  through  January,  1960: 
the  running  script  for  Astounding  was  abandoned  and  lower  case  block 
letters  adopted  to  give  equal  emphasis  to  the  fuU  name. 

In  November,  1951  a  further  change  in  the  cover  makeup  was  made. 
Heretofore  the  cover  painting  covered  the  entire  page  with  the  title 
logo,  date  and  price  overprinted  at  the  top  and  the  featured  story  at  the 
bottom.  With  the  November  issue  the  cover  painting  was  bled  off  the 
right  hand  side  and  the  bottom  of  the  page  and  given  a  one  half  inch 
margin  on  the  left  and  a  one  and  three-eighths  inch  margin  at  the  top. 
The  title  of  the  feature  story,  or  the  title  of  the  cover,  was  printed 
along  the  left  hand  margin  and  the  title  logo  across  the  top  margin. 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  199 

thus  leaving  the  cover  painting  entirely  free  of  print.  This  lasted  until 
January,  1954.  This  makeup  was  remarkably  similar  to  the  cover 
format  used  by  Galaxy  since  its  first  issue,  and  H.  L.  Gold,  the  editor 
of  Galaxy,  was  quite  bitter  in  his  condemnation  of  Campbell’s  “theft” 
of  his  format.  However,  Gold’s  argument  that  Campbell  had  “stolen” 
Galaxy’s  format  was  somewhat  weakened  by  the  fact  that  Comet  Stories 
used  almost  the  identical  cover  format  ten  years  earlier.  From  this 
point  the  rivalry  between  Campbell  and  Gold  became  increasingly 
intensified.  From  February,  1954  on  the  margins  were  dropped 
and  the  painting  again  filled  the  entire  cover  area  with  the  title  logo 
imprinted  over  the  painting  and  the  story  title  at  the  bottom,  either 
printed  over  the  painting  or  on  a  black  strip  across  the  bottom. 

Astounding,  throughout  its  history,  has  been  noted  for  the  quantity 
and  quality  of  its  longer  stories,  particularly  its  serials,  and  secondarily 
its  novelettes  and  short  novels— usually  two-part  serials.  In  the  fifties 
Astounding  published  twenty-eight  complete  serials  in  two,  three,  and 
four  parts  (the  maximum  number  of  installments  of  a  novel,  no  matter 
what  its  length  in  words,  published  in  Astounding  since  “Galactic 
Patrol,”  October,  1937  to  Ma.rch,  1938;  six  installments).  Only  rarely 
has  there  been  as  few  as  two  serials  published  in  any  one  year:  it  is 
usually  on  the  order  of  at  least  three,  and  sometimes  four  or  even  five. 
In  the  fifties  there  were  three  different  years  in  which  four  serials 
were  published,  1955,  1958,  and  1959;  three  in  which  there  were  three, 
1950,  1954,  and  1957;  three  which  saw  two,  1952,  1953,  and  1956  and 
one  year  in  which  only  one  serial  was  published,  1951. 

Although  1952  had  only  two  serials,  they  were  important  ones.  The 
first  was  “Gunner  Cade,”  by  Cyril  Judd  (a  collaboration  between  Cyril 
M.  Kornbluth  and  Judith  Merril),  the  story  of  a  mercenary  soldier  in  a 
regimented  future,  intelligent  and  resourceful,  but  thoroughly  indoctri¬ 
nated,  who  doesn’t  begin  to  think  and  act  for  himself  until  maneuvered 
into  a  position  where  it’s  forced  on  him  (March/May).  The  other  was 
Isaac  Asimov’s  excellent  and  important  novel,  “The  Currents  of  Space,” 
the  novel  mentioned  earlier  which  is  part  of  his  future  history  of  the 
galaxy,  precedii^  by  several  thousand  years  the  era  of  the  Foundation 
stories.  This  was  the  story  of  Rik.,  the  spatio-anaiyst,  who  has  been 
psycho-probed  and  left  memoryless  on  the  planet  Fiorina,  an  agri¬ 
cultural  planet  under  the  dominion  of  Sark,  a  planet  of  a  neighboring 
system.  The  action  moves  from  Fiorina  to  Sark  and  back,  as  Rik,  and 
those  interested  in  him,  seek  to  unravel  the  mystery  surrounding  him. 
This  was  an  exciting  novel,  but  of  even  greater  interest  was  the  back¬ 
ground  it  gave  to  Asimov’s  galactic  civilization  in  the  period  just  be¬ 
fore  Trantor  established  its  Galactic  Empire  (October/December). 

1952  may  have  been  a  lean  year  tor  serials,  but  this  was  offset  some¬ 
what  by  the  number  of  excellent  novelettes  and  short  stories  that  filled 
the  year:  “That  Share  of  Glory”  (January),  by  C.  M.  Kornbluth,  about 
the  College  and  Order  of  Heralds,  a  “religious”  order  that  spread 
utilitarian  culture  throughout  the  galaxy;  “Telek”  (January),  by  tack 


200 


ALVA  ROGERS 


Vance,  a  short  novel  of  the  abuse  of  telekinetic  power  by  an  elite  few 
for  political  domination  over  the  masses,  and  of  how  telekinetic  power 
was  eventually  acquired  by  the  many;  “Blood’s  a  Rover”  (May),  Chad 
Oliver’s  sensitive  tale  of  Earth’s  thousand  year  plan  to  avoid  destruction 
from  an  as-yet-to-be  encountered  race  from  another  galaxy  by  accelerat¬ 
ing  the  cultural  development  of  other  races  in  the  galaxy  without  their 
knowledge.  This  was  only  one  of  many— and  one  of  the  best— of  Oliver’s 
stories  built  around  anthropological  themes;  “Bridge”  (February),  by 
James  Blish,  the  story  of  the  bridge  being  built  on  Jupiter  which  forms 
an  integral  part  of  the  first  book  in  the  four  volume  “Okie”  series, 
“Cities  in  Flight”  (Year  2018!,  Avon,  1957).  Other  fine  stories  were: 
“Dumb  Waiter”  (April),  by  Walter  M.  Miller,  Jr.,  “The  Specter  General” 
(June),  by  Theodore  R.  Cogswell,  “Last  Blast”  (November),  by  Eric 
Frank  Russell,  and  “Noise  Level”  (December),  by  Raymond  F.  Jones. 

Hubert  Rogers  had  only  two  covers  in  1952,  January  and  April,  for 
Kombluth’s  “That  Share  of  Glory”  and  Walter  M.  Miller,  Jr.’s  “E>umb 
Waiter.”  Van  Dongen  had  the  February  cover  for  William  Tenn’s 
“Firewater,”  May  for  “Blood’s  a  Rover,”  June  for  “The  Specter 
General,”  August  for  “The  Face  of  the  Enemy,”  by  Thomas  Wilson, 
and  the  October  cover  for  “The  Currents  of  Space.”  Pawelka,  a  new, 
and  not-so-good  artist  debuted  in  March  with  the  “Gunner  Cade”  cover 
and  interiors,  and  repeated  again  in  July  with  a  mediocre  symbolic 
cover  for  Jim  Brown’s  “The  Emissary.”  And  Alejandro  compounded 
the  mediocrity  in  September  with  his  poorest  cover.  The  two  best 
covers  of  the  year  appeared  on  the  November  and  December  issues. 
November  saw  the  last  of  the  great  Golden  Age  artist,  Charles  Schnee- 
man,  with  a  quietly  beautiful  painting  of  a  rocket  poised  on  a  Limar 
landscape  with  its  nose  pointed  at  a  dark  blue  Earth  hanging  in  the  sky 
on  whose  western  hemisphere  can  be  discerned  three  large  areas  of 
light — obviously  atomic  holocausts.  December’s  cover  was  a  “story” 
painting  by  Welker  titled  “The  First  Martian,”  showing  an  astronaut 
walking  away  from  his  wrecked  ship  on  a  featureless  and  bleak  Martian 
desert.  Most  of  the  interior  artwork  was  handled  by  Orban,  Pawelka, 
and  van  Dongen,  with  a  few  drawings  by  Cartier  and  Rogers  helping  to 
keep  the  quality  better  than  poor  on  an  overall  basis. 

On  the  balance,  1952  was  a  pretty  good  year. 

1953  had  one  inconsequential  serial,  “Null-ABC,”  by  H.  Beam  Piper 
and  John  J.  McGuire  (February/March),  and  one  major  serial,  possibly 
one  of  the  most  important  novels  of  the  decade,  “Mission  of  Gravity,” 
by  Hal  Clement  (April/July) .  “Null-ABC”  was  the  tale  of  the  war  be¬ 
tween  the  literates  and  the  illiterates  in  the  twenty-second  century,  a 
period  following  numerous  world  wars,  by  which  time  it  had  been  de¬ 
cided  that  literacy  was  one  of  the  major  causes  of  war,  therefore,  in 
order  to  eliminate  war  it  was  only  necessary  to  eliminate  literacy 
(except  for  a  few  select  and  tightly-knit  literates  needed  to  carry  on 
with  the  normal  course  of  business).  Naturally,  in  time  the  illiterates 
came  to  resent  this  state  of  affairs  and  revolted.  Not  a  bad  story,  but 
not  particularly  memorable. 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  201 

“Mission  of  Gravity”  is  considered  by  most  to  be  Clement’s  greatest 
novel  and  no  doubt  it  is,  though  some  prefer  his  earlier  “Needle.”  But 
be  that  as  it  may,  “Mission  of  Gravity”  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  finest 
examples  extant  of  almost  pure  “science”  fiction.  The  story  is  laid  on 
the  solitary  planet  of  the  brighter  component  of  61  Cygni,  a  planet  with 
a  mass  of  five  thousand  times  that  of  Earth.  However,  because  of  the 
matter  of  which  it  is  composed  it  has  a  volume  not  much  greater  than 
that  of  Uranus.  Generally,  this  would  mean  it  would  have  a  surface 
gravity  some  three  himdred  times  that  of  Earth,  but  because  of  its  ex¬ 
tremely  rapid  rate  of  rotation  the  surface  gravity  at  the  equator  is  only 
three  times  that  of  Earth,  while  the  tremendous  flattening  gives  it  con¬ 
siderably  more  than  six  himdred  gravities  at  the  poles.  The  problem 
is  set  up  when  a  remote  control  rocket  loaded  with  telemetry  devices 
sent  to  the  south  pole  to  record  and  transmit  data  fails  to  respond  to 
its  take-off  signal.  Some  data  has  been  radioed  out,  but  other  valuable 
information  remains  in  the  rocket.  How  to  get  to  the  rocket  and  rescue 
its  valuable  cargo  ?  Charles  Lackland,  a  young  scientist  at  the  equatorial 
station,  strikes  up  a  friendship  with  one  Captain  Barlennan,  skipper  and 
owner  of  a  Mesklinite  tramp  freighter  (and  possibly  a  pirate),  and  gets 
him  to  agree  to  make  the  incredibly  long  and  dangerous  surface  trip  to 
the  south  pole  to  recover  the  rocket.  The  problems  confronting  Lack- 
land  and  his  tiny  (eighteen  inches  long)  Mesklinite  companion  on  their 
trip  to  the  south  pole  are  awesome,  and  Clement  sets  up  the  problems, 
and  then  works  out  their  solutions  in  a  scientifically  logical  manner. 
Perhaps  the  most  impressive  single  factor  in  this  novel— and  in  most 
of  Clement’s  novels,  for  that  matter— is  the  beautiful  fashioning  of  the 
alien  inhabitants  of  his  utterly  alien  planets.  He  does  this  in  a  style  that 
would  make  Stanley  G.  Weinbaum,  were  he  alive  today,  green  with  envy. 

In  January,  Paul  Anderson  had  the  cover  story,  “IW-Man,”  a  short 
novel  about  the  man  murdered  in  several  cities  around  the  world,  and 
who  died  of  an  accident  on  Mars,  brought  on  partly  by  old  age,  who 
continued  to  work  on  the  problem  of  his  murders  while  carrying  on 
more  vigorous  activities.  Anderson  had  two  more  excellent  novelettes 
featured  on  covers  this  year,  “Enough  Rope”  (July),  another  tale  of  the 
Galactic  League  Patrol,  “The  Double-Dyed  Villains”  introduced  in  the 
story  of  that  name  in  September,  1949,  and  “Sam  Hall”  (August)  which 
told  how  the  folk  hero  of  an  old  song  was  “resurrected”  to  help  over¬ 
throw  an  oppressive  militaristic  American  government  of  a  future  time. 

The  “Baldy”  series  of  Lewis  Padgett  was  concluded  in  September 
with  “Humpty  Dumpty.”  Not  only  did  this  story  bring  to  an  end  the 
“Baldy”  series,  it  also  brought  to  an  end  the  long  association  between 
both  C.  L.  Moore  and  Henry  Kuttner  as  individual  writers  and  as  a 
team,  and  Astounding.  Catherine  Moore  had  appeared  infrequently,  but 
with  telling  effect,  in  Astounding  as  C.  L.  Moore  since  her  first  story, 
“Bright  Illusion”  (September,  1934),  and  more  frequently  after  her 
marriage  in  1940  to  Henry  Kuttner,  asone-half  of  their  brilliant  collabo¬ 
rations,  Lewis  Padgett  and  Lawrence  O’Donnell.  Henry  Kuttner’s  first 
story  in  Astounding  was  “The  Disinherited,”  a  short  story  in  the  August, 


202 


ALVA  ROGERS 


1938  issue.  As  Kuttner  he  wrote  but  two  other  stories  for  Astounding, 
“Nothing  But  Gingerbread  Left”  (January,  1943),  and  “Ghost”  (May, 
1943)— everything  else  he  wrote  for  Asto^ding  was  under  one  of  the 
collaborative  pseudonyms  with  his  wife^  From  September,  1953  imtil 
his  tragic  death  from  a  heart  attack  on  February  4,  1958,  Kuttner  did 
very  little  writing  in  the  science  fiction  field,  and  what  he  did  was  done 
for  one  or  another  of  the  other  magazines  and  not  for  the  magazine  in 
which  he  achieved  his  maturity  as  a  writer.  Astounding  Science  Fiction. 

James  Bllsh,  in  “Earthman,  Come  Home”  (November),  told  of  how  the 
Okie  city  of  Manhattan  became  stranded  on  a  planet  in  the  Greater 
Magellanic  Cluster — apparently  forever,  because  of  defective  spin- 
dizzies,  rescued  the  people  of  the  planet  on  which  they  settled  from 
another  city,  a  bindlestiff  city,  that  had  long  ago  preceded  them,  and  of 
how  they  eventually  returned  “home.”  This  novelette  formed  the  con¬ 
cluding  portion  of  Earthman,  C^me  Home  (Putnam’s,  1955),  the  third 
voliime  in  Bllsh’s  tetralogy,  “Cities  in  Flight.” 

Van  Dongen  had  four  covers  this  year,  February,  for  “Null- ABC”  (a 
striking  painting,  it  must  be  admitted),  April,  for  “Mission  of  Gravity,” 
August,  for  “Sam  HaU,”  and  December,  for  “Hidel  Hidel  Witchl,”  by 
Mark  Clifton  and  Alex  Apostolides.  Miller  had  two  fine  covers,  July 
for  Anderson’s  “Enough  Rope,”  and  September  for  Clifton’s  and 
Apostolides’  “What  Thin  Partitions.”  Pawelka  came  up  with  two, 
January,  for  “UN-Man.”  and  March,  for  “Thou  Good  and  Faithful,”  by 
John  Loxmith  (John  Brunner),  both  quite  poor.  The  May  cover  was  a 
painting  by  Austin  R.  Baer,  a  student  of  a  creative  engineering  course 
at  M.I.T.,  and  was  titled  “Interplanetary  Industrial  Design.”  The  Jime 
and  November  covers  were  both  photographs:  the  June  cover  was  a 
photograph  of  a  model  rocket  ship,  illustrating  “...And  A  Star  To  Steer 
Her  By,”  by  Lee  Correy  (G.  Harry  Stine), and  the  November  cover  was 
a  view  of  the  UN  building  from  the  Street  &  Smith  offices.  That  leaves 
October  unaccounted  for.  October  marked  the  debut  on  the  covers  of 
Astounding  of  an  outstanding  artist,  Frank  Kelly  Freas,  with  a  beautiful 
painting  illustrating  Tom  Godwin’s  “The  Gulf  Between”;  Freas  was  an 
artist  who  would  leave  an  indelible  mark  on  the  science  fiction  field. 

In  the  January,  1953  “Analytical  Laboratory”  Campbell  announced 
that  starting  with  the  April  issue  the  author  placing  first  in  the  stand¬ 
ings  according  to  reader  votes  would  receive  a  bonus  of  1^  a  word 
over  the  base  3?  a  word,  and  the  author  placing  second  in  the  ratings, 
a  bonus  of  1/2?.  This  policy  is  continued  to  this  day  in  Analog. 

1954  gave  us  two  short  novels  and  one  long  one;  “SuckefBaltt”  by 
Isaac  Asimov  (February/March),  “Question  and  Answer,”  by  Poul 
Anderson  (June/July)  and  “They’d  Rather  be  Right,”  by  hfark  Clifton 
and  Frank  Riley  (August/November).  Asimov’s  “Sucker  Balt”  was  an 
excellent  tale  of  planetary  e}q)loration  and  character  development. 
The  story  is  laid  on  the  planet  Troas  in  the  Lagrange  system  in  the 
Hercules  cluster.  Troas  has  a  companion  planet  called  niium  (the  two 
are  nicknamed  “Junior”  and  “Sister,”  “Junior”  being  Troas),  and 
Lagrange  is  actually  a  double  sim — Lagrange  I  and  Lagrange  II.  Jimior 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  203 

has  been  discovered  to  be  uninhabited  but  habitable,  and  a  colonizing 
expedition  is  sent  to  open  it  up.  In  a  little  over  a  year  this  colony  of  a 
thousand  men,  women,  and  children  is  wiped  out  mysteriously,  possibly 
by  disease,  and  interest  in  Troas  lapses  for  a  hxmdred  years  when  the 
events  of  this  story  begin. 

Poul  Anderson’s  “Question  and  Answer”  was  an  excellent  tale  of 
planetary  exploration  and  character  development.  The  story  is  laid  on 
the  planet  Troas  in  the  Lagrange  system  in  the  Hercules  cluster. 
Troas  has  a. ..but  this  is  the  same  as  the  Asimov  yam!  And  so  it  was. 
At  this  time  the  Twayne  Publishing  Company  was  running  a  gimmick  in 
publishing  “Twayne  Triplets,”  books  containing  three  short  novels 
written  by  three  different  authors,  each  developing  a  single  idea  in 
their  own  individual  ways.  The  Asimov  and  Anderson  novellas  were 
originally  planned  as  two-thirds  of  one  of  these  “triplets”— a  book  that 
was  never  published. 

“They’d  Rather  Be  Right,”  Mark  Clifton’s  and  Frank  Riley’s  four- 
part  serial,  was  a  sequel  to  Mark  Clifton’s  and  Alex  Apostolides’ 
novelette,  “Hide!  Hide!  Witch!”  the  previous  December,  and  the  same 
authors’  short  story,  “Crazy  Joey,”  in  the  Ai^ust,  1953  issue,  “They’d 
Rather  Be  Right”  was  the  story  of  Bossy,  the  cybernetics  machine 
storing  all  of  man’s  knowledge  but  none  of  his  prejudices,  which  can, 
it  turns  out,  rejuvenate  individuals  and  bring  out  psi  powers.  This  was 
Mark  Clifton’s  first  novel,  probably  his  best  novel  and  was  awarded 
the  Hugo  at  the  13th  World  Science  Fiction  Convention  (1955)  as  the 
best  novel  of  1954.  (The  “Hugo”  is  the  Science  Fiction  Achievement 
Award;  it  is  nicknamed  in  affectionate  reference  to  Hugo  Gernsback, 
the  Father  of  magazine  science  fiction.  The  award  is  a  trophy  in  the 
form  of  a  V2-shaDed  rocket  resting  on  its  tailfins  on  a  wooden  base.) 

A  few  of  the  better  shorter  stories  of  the  year  were  “Exile”  (January), 
and  “Fighting  Philosopher”  (April),  both  by  Everett  B.  Cole  and  both 
part  of  the  “Philosophical  Corps”  series,  “Immigrant”  (March),  by 
Clifford  D.  Simak  (this  was  called  “Immigration”  on  the  cover),  and 
“Rite  of  Passage”  (April),  by  Chad  Oliver.  James  Blish  took  the  cover 
in  May  with  “At  Death’s  End,”  another  segment  in  the  “Cities  in  Flight” 
series,  this  one  telling  of  the  search  for  and  discovery  of  an  anti- 
agathic,  an  anti-death  drug,  the  discovery  of  which  was  to  make  the 
long  star  journeys  of  the  Okie  cities  endurable  for  their  citizens.  In 
August,  Tom  Godwin  had  a  story  that  created  considerable  discussion 
in  the  science  fiction  world,  “The  Cold  Equations.”  This  was  the  story 
of  the  one  man  spaceship,  a  ship  with  only  enough  fuel,  etc.,  to 
carry  one  man  to  his  destination  safely.  The  ship  was  an  EDS,  an 
Emergency  Dispatch  Ship,  designed  for  one  man  and  one  man  only.  In 
the  unlikely  event  that  a  stowaway  was  to  be  foimd  on  an  EDS  the  pilot 
had  no  alternative  but  to  follow  the  letter  of  the  law  found  in  Paragraph 
L,  Section  8  of  Interstellar  Regulations:  Any  stowaway  discovered  in 
an  EDS  shall  te  jettisoned  immediately  following  discovery.  What 
does  a  decent,  but  conscientious  pilot  do  when  he  finds  he  has  a  stow¬ 
away— and  the  stowaway  a  girl  with  everything  to  live  for?  In  Septem- 


204 


ALVA  ROGERS 


ber,  Fredric  Brown  delighted  nearly  everyone  with  his  lighthearted 
short  novel,  “Martians,  Go  Home,”  and  in  October,  Foul  Anderson  had 
another  of  his  excellent  short  novels,  “The  Big  Rain,”  dealing  with  the 
politics  of  exploitation  on  Venus. 

Cover  artists  for  1954  were  van  Dongen,  Kelly  Freas,  Alejandro, 
and  Bonestell.  Van  Dongen  had  three  covers  this  year,  the  Christmas 
design  on  the  January  issue  (if  this  seems  a  strange  theme  for  January, 
remember,  this  issue  appeared  on  the  newsstands  on  December  16, 
1953),  a  fine  painting  of  a  hooded  skull  on  the  May  issue  for  Blish’s 
“At  Death’s  End,”  and  an  Interesting  Illustration  of  Anderson’s  “The 
Big  Rain”  for  October.  Alejandro  had  another  symbolic  cover  for  July, 
and  Bonestell  had  a  breathtaking  painting  of  “Mars  seen  from  Phobos” 
on  the  December  cover.  All  the  rest  were  by  Kelly  Freas,  with  his 
August  cover  for  Mark  Clifton’s  and  Frank  Riley’s  “They’d  Rather  Be 
Right”  probably  the  best  of  the  lot.  Beginning  with  the  February,  1954 
issue,  “cover  symbols”  were  added  to  the  covers,  ostensibly  to  help  in 
quick  identification  of  Astounding  in  the  glut  of  magazines  on  the  news¬ 
stands.  These  were  small  diagramatic  drawings  appearing  In  the 
upper  left  comer  behind  the  title  logo,  and  were  present  on  all  but 
thirteen  covers  for  the  balance  of  the  decade. 

Foul  Anderson’s  four-part  novel  in  1955,  “The  Long  Way  Home,” 
was  Anderson  at  his  very  best.  This  was  the  story  of  the  starship 
Explorer  and  its  crew  of  scientists  who  return  to  Earth  after  what 
they  believe  to  be  a  one- year- long  trip  only  to  find  they  had  been  gone 
for  five  thousand  years  and  the  Earth  they  returned  to  an  utterly  alien 
one.  They  are  received  with  hostility  but  grudgingly  accepted  because 
of  their  passenger  picked  iq)  on  the  planet  Holat,  a  thousand  light-years 
from  Sol — Saris  Hronna.  The  picture  changes  radically  when  Saris 
Hronna  escapes. ..and  Foul  Anderson  is  off  on  another  memorable  yam 
compounded  of  high  adventure  and  social  commentary,  as  only  he  can 
do  it.  Incidentally,  Ace  Books  earned  Campbell’s  ire  by  jumping  the 
gun  and  coming  out  with  this  book,  under  the  title  No  World  Of  Their 
Own  before  the  July  issue  of  Astounding  with  the  climactic  installm^ 
hit  the  newsstands. 

Eric  Frank  Russell’s  “Call  Him  Dead”  (August/October)  was  a  fast 
paced  but  disappointing  psionic  whodimit  of  an  attempted  takeover  of 
Earth  by  a  life  form  from  Venus  who  assume  the  bodies  of  Earthlings 
and  can  only  be  detected  byWadeHarper,amakerof  micromanipulatory 
instriunents  and  since  childhood  a  secret  telepath.  There  were  strong 
overtones  of  his  earlier,  and  much  better,  “Dreadful  Sanctuary”  in 
this  yarn  and  seemed  almost  a  rewriting  of  it  with  just  enough  of  a 
variation  of  the  plot  to  make  it  publishably  different.  Also  appearing 
this  year  was  another  short  novel  of  the  Faratime  Folice  by  H.  Beam 
Fiper,  “Time  Crime”  (February/March),  but  the  really  big  novel  of 
the  year  (and  one  of  the  best  of  the  entire  fifties)  was  “Under  Fressure,” 
by  Frank  Herbert  (November,  1955/January,  1956). 

“Under  Fressure”  (published  in  hardcovers  as  Dragon  In  the  Sea, 
Doubleday,  1956,  and  in  paperback  as  21st  Century  Sub,  Avon,  1956) 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  205 

was  the  intensely  realistic  tale  of  the  atomic  powered  “subtug” 
Fenian  Ram  SI 881  and  its  hazardous  mission  to  pirate  oil  from  the 
vast  underwater  deposits  of  the  Eastern  Hemisphere,  with  which 
America  and  her  allies  of  the  western  hemisphere  were  at  war.  The 
hero  of  this  story  (other  than  the  Fenian  Ram)  was  Ensign  Johnny 
Ramsey,  electronics  officer  on  the  Ram  who  not  only  had  to  cope  with 
enemy  anti-sub  wolf  packs,  but  with  an  unknown  saboteur  aboard  the 
Ram.  The  feeling  of  reality,  the  sense  of  “this  is  how  it  must  feel  in 
an  atomic  powered  submarine,  eight  thousand  feet  below  sea  level,  a 
submarine  that  could  at  any  moment  become  a  radioactive  coffin,”  was 
tremendous.  So  tremendous,  in  fact,  that  the  reader  assumed  Herbert 
had  either  served  as  a  submariner  or  had  taken  a  cruise  in  an  atomic 
sub  at  some  time  in  order  to  get  the  background  “feel”  of  a  submarine. 
When  asked  about  this,  Herbert’s  answer  is  one  writer’s  refutation  of 
the  maxim  that  one  can’t  write  knowingly  about  something  one  doesn’t 
have  first-hand  knowledge  of:  Herbert,  a  newspaperman,  had  been 
assigned  in  some  capacity  or  another  to  the  Naval  Department  at  the 
Pentagon.  While  there  he  read  every  available  piece  of  literature  he 
could  get  from  whatever  archives  such  things  come  from  on  subma¬ 
rines.  He  got  all  his  technical  data  from  official  and  semi-official 
documents  and  then  projected  it  to  the  twenty-first  century.  As  far  as 
the  “feel”  of  being  in  a  submarine  which  he  conveyed  so  admirably  is 
concerned,  that  was  just  plain  craftsmanship — he  never  set  foot  in  a 
submarine  until  after  he’d  written  the  book. 

The  January,  1955  issue  featured  a  short  novel,  “The  Darfsteller,” 
a  story  of  the  conflict  between  human  and  android,  by  Walter  M.  Miller, 
Jr.,  which  was  to  win  the  Hugo  later  in  the  year  at  the  13th  World 
Science  Fiction  Convention  in  Cleveland.  Other  stories  of  more  than 
passing  interest  this  year  were  “Field  Expedient”  (also  in  January), 
by  Chad  Oliver,  “The  Players”  (^ril),  by  Everett  B.  Cole,  “Risk” 
(May),  by  Asimov,  again  Cole  with  “Final  Weapon”  (June),  “Victory” 
(August),  by  Lester  del  Rey,  Jack  Vance’s  fine  novelette,  “The  Gift  of 
Gab”  (September),  “Cubs  of  the  Wolf”  (November),  by  Raymond  F.  Jones 
and  “Sand  Doom”  (December),  a  “Colonial  Survey”  story  by  Murray 
Leinster,  the  first  of  this  series  which  is  also  sometimes  referred  to 
as  the  “Landing  Grid”  series. 

Kelly  Freas  had  eight  of  the  twelve  covers  for  the  year,  including 
the  Christmas  cover  for  January,  Van  Dongen  had  two,  the  March 
cover  for  Mark  Clifton’s  “Sense  From  Thought  Divide,”  and  November 
for  “Under  Pressure.”  The  May  cover  was  a  scene  from  Paramoimt’s 
production  of  George  Pal’s  The  Conquest  of  ^ace,  and  October  featured 
the  first  cover  for  Astounding  by  Ed  Emsh,  a  memorable  symbolic 
painting  titled  “Follow  Me...”  One  of  the  more  delightful  surprises  of 
the  year— for  older  readers  of  Astounding— was  the  brief  reappearance 
of  Hubert  Rogers  in  the  art  department.  There  were  no  covers  by  him, 
but  his  illustrations  fordelRey’s  “Victory”  (August),  Francis  Donovan’s 
“The  Short  Life”  (October),  and  Jones’  “Cubs  of  the  Wolf”  (November) 
were  very  welcome,  indeed. 


ALVA  ROGERS 


Robert  A,  Heinlein’s  return  to  Astounding  after  six  years  (his  last 
story  in  Astounding  had  been  “Gulf,”  Novemoer/December,  1949)  was 
with  a  three-part  novel,  “Double  Star,”  the  story  of  the  ham  actor 
Lorenzo  Smythe’s  impersonation  of  John  J.  Bonforte,  interplanetary 
politician  (February/ April).  Heinlein,  before  the  war,  was  identified 
in  the  minds  of  most  readers  as  an  “Astounding”  author,  one  whose 
important  stories  and  novels  appeared  almost  exclusively  in  that 
magazine.  Since  the  war  this  no  longer  held  true.  His  most  famous 
short  story  of  the  post  war  period,  “The  Green  Hills  of  Earth,”  ap¬ 
peared  in  The  Saturday  Evening  Post  in  1947;  one  of  his  finest  stories 
— in  any  length — was  the  menoorable  “The  Man  Who  Sold  the  Moon,” 
which  first  saw  print  as  the  title  story  for  the  first  book  collection  of 
the  “Future  History”  stories  (The  Man  Who  Sold  the  Moon,  Shasta, 
1950),  and  his  exciting  novel  of  extraterrestrial  invasion,  “The  Puppet 
Masters,”  had  been  one  of  the  highlights  of  the  1951  Galaxy  Science 
Fiction  (September/November).  But  the  main  reason  Heinlein  was  not 
seen  with  more  frequency  in  Astounding,  or  the  other  magazines,  was 
the  fact  that  he  was  devoting  the  major  share  of  his  writing  to  his 
phenomenally  successful  juveniles  for  Scribner’s:  Rocket  Ship  Galileo, 
Space  Cadet,  Red  Planet,  Farmer  In  the  Sky,  etc.,  and  was  making 
more  from  those  than  he  could  writing  regularly  for  the  magazines. 

The  only  other  serial  published  in  1956  was  Isaac  Asimov’s  excellent 
sequel  to  “The  Caves  of  Steel”  (Galaxy,  October/December,  1953), 
“The  Naked  Sun.”  This  novel  carried  on  with  the  further  adventures  of 
Earth  detective  Elijah  Baley  and  his  robot  partner  R.  (Robot)  Daneel 
Olivaw  as  they  attempt  to  solve  a  series  of  murders  on  a  planet  where 
murder  is  impossible.  This  was  one  of  the  novels  mentioned  earlier 
which  help  to  tie  the  Robot  series  and  the  Foundation  series  into  one 
(October/November) . 

Except  for  the  two  serials  there  were  really  few  truly  memorable 
stories  published  this  year.  However,  there  were  a  number  of  good, 
readable  yarns  that  were  at  least  up  to  the  Astounding  standard  for 
slick,  mature  science  fiction:  among  these  v’ere  three  “Colonial  Sur¬ 
vey”  stories  by  Murray  Leinster,  two  of  which  were  cover  stories, 
“Exploration  Team”  (March),  “Critical  Difference”  (July),  and  “The 
Swamp  Was  Upside  Down”  (September).  Others  worthy  of  a  mention 
are  Sturgeon’s  “Won’t  You  Walk—”  (January,  illustrated  by  Rogers), 
“The  Dead  Past”  (April),  by  Asimov,  “Plus  X”  (June),  by  Eric  Frank 
Russell,  “Tomb  Tapper”  (July),  by  Blish. 

Again,  Kelly  Freas  walked  away  Avith  the  honors  for  covers  with  five: 
February  and  April  for  Heinlein’s  “Double  Star”  (this  is  the  first  time 
to  my  knowledge  that  a  three-part  serial  in  Astounding  has  had  a  cover 
for  the  first  and  third  installment— the  usual  practice  is  to  give  the 
cover  to  the  first  two)  a  beautifully  wild  thing  for  “Plus  X”  in  July, 
September  for  Christopher  Anvil’s  “Pandora’s  Planet”  and  November 
for  “Sour  Note  on  Palayata,”  by  James  H.  Schmitz.  Van  Dongen  had 
the  January  Christmas  cover,  the  May  cover  for  Everett  B.  Cole’s 
“The  Missionaries,”  July  for  “Critical  Difference,”  October  for  “The 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  207 

Naked  Sun”  and  December  for  Robert  Randall’s  “False  Prophet.”  The 
remaining  two  covers  were  by  Ed  Emsh,  both  excellent:  March  for 
“E3q)loration  Team”  and  a  story  telling  painting, “The  Healer,”  for  August. 

James  Blish  led  off  1957  with  a  two-part  short  novel,  “Get  Out  of 
My  Sky”  (January/ February),  which  was  based  roughly  on  the  same 
plot  idea  as  Asimov’s  “Sucker  Bait”  and  Anderson’s  “Question  and 
Answer,”  but  nowhere  near  as  good  as  either.  This  was  followed  by 
“The  Dawning  Light”  (March/May)  by  Robert  Randall  (Garrett  and 
Silverberg),  another  of  the  Bel  Rogas  yarns.  Heinlein  made  up  for  his 
long  absence  from  Astounding  with  another  serial  this  year,  “Citizen  of 
the  Galaxy”  (September/December) .  Although  classified  as  a  juvenile, 
this  novel  of  the  sickly,  scab-infested  young  slave  Thorby,  purchased 
at  the  slave  market  of  Jubbulpore,  capital  of  Jubbul  and  of  the  Nine 
Worlds,  by  Baslim,  the  one-eyed,  one-legged  beggar,  and  of  his  search 
for  identity  was  almost  vintage  Heinlein  and  an  enjoyable  story,  juvenile 
or  not. 

In  the  December,  1938  and  January,  1939  Astoundings,  Manly  Wade 
WeUman  had  a  two-part  serial  which  told  of  the  eventual  destruction 
of  the  alien  invaders  and  conquerers  of  Earth  by  a  handful  of  resourceful 
Earthmen  who  went  up  against  overwhelmingly  superior  force  with 
gnat-like  persistence  and  elusiveness,  making  such  nuisances  of  them¬ 
selves  that  they  finally  won  the  war  and  drove  the  conquerers  away. 
“Nuisance  Value”  was  the  name  of  this  short  novel.  In  January,  1957 
Eric  Frank  Russell  had  a  short  novel  on  substantially  the  same  theme 
and  with  the  identical  title,  “Nuisance  Value.”  RxisseU,  however,  told 
of  what  happened  when  seven  capable  and  imaginative  Earthmen  are 
captured  by  the  enemy  in  an  interstellar  war  and  placed  in  a  prison 
camp  with  several  thousand  alien,  but  allied  to  Earth,  prisoners. 
Needless  to  say,  of  the  two  stories  Russell’s  was  by  far  the  superior. 
H.  Beam  Piper  had  an  interesting  yarn  in  the  Febimry  issue,  “Omni- 
lingual,”  which  was  concerned  with  the  effort  to  learn  the  key  to  read¬ 
ing  Martian,  a  language  that  was  dead  forty  thousand  years  before  man 
on  Earth  learned  to  write.  Poul  Anderson  had  a  lovely  novelette  in 
April,  “Call  Me  Joe,”  a  very  hiunan  story  of  man’s  attem^  to  introduce 
intelligent  life  on  the  surface  of  Jupiter,  and  of  the  subject  and  focus 
of  this  attempt,  the  pseudojovian  Pseudocentaurus  Sapien,  Joe.  Ander¬ 
son  also  had  two  other  fine  novelettes  this  year,  “Among  Thieves” 
(June),  and  “Brake”  (August),  but  neither  the  equal  of  “Call  Me  Joe.” 
In  the  May  short  novel,  “What’s  Eating  You?,”  Randall  Garrett  told  an 
interesting  story  around  the  idea  of  the  need  for  an  interstellar  quaran¬ 
tine  station  on  the  moon  to  prevent  the  introduction  of  unknown  diseases 
to  Earth  by  interstellar  explorers,  and  at  the  same  time  examine  the 
very  real  questions  of  “what  are  ethics?”  and  “what  is  truth?” 

Murray  Leinster  had  three  Med  Service  stories  published  this  year, 
“Ribbon  in  the  Sky,”  the  cover  story  for  June,  “Med  Service,”  a  short 
novel  in  August  and  “The  Grandfather’s  War,”  a  short  novel  in  October. 
The  Med  Service  stories  are  related  to  the  Colonial  Survey  stories  and 
are  part  of  the  landing  grid  interstellar  culture  that  Leinster  had 


ALVA  ROGERS 


meticulously  built  up.  These  stories  related  the  several  adventures  on 
different  worlds  of  Calhoun  of  the  Interstellar  Medical  Service,  ac¬ 
companied  at  all  times  by  the  small,  furry,  saucer-eyed  Tormal 
Murgatroyd,  who  was  not  only  a  pet  and  companion  on  the  long  trips  in 
the  Med  Ship  Aesclipus  Twenty,  but  a  walking  laboratory.  On  the  surface 
there  is  an  imfortunate  parallel  between  Leinster’s  Med  Service  tales 
and  those  of  L.  Ron  Hubbard’s  Ole  Doc  Methuselah;  Leinster’s  star 
roaming  Interstellar  Medical  Service,  Hubbard’s  Soldiers  of  Light; 
Leinster’s  Med  Service  man,  Calhoim,  Hubbard’s  Soldier  of  Light,  Ole 
Doc  Methuselah;  Calhoun’s  extraterrestrial  companion,  the  Tormal 
Murgatroyd,  Ole  Doc’s  extraterrestrial,  Hippocrates,  etc.  These 
parallels  are  too  obvious  to  dismiss — certainly,  Leinster’s  Med  Ser¬ 
vice  stories  were  inspired  by  Hubbard’s  Ole  Doc  Methuselah  tales,  but 
the  parallel  ends  with  these  surface  trappings.  Hubbard’s  yams  were 
essentially  light-hearted  romps,  even  when  dealing  with  the  grimmest 
themes,  and  the  resolutions  of  the  problems  confronting  Ole  Doc  were 
usually  gimmicky.  Leinster’s  stories,  on  the  other  hand,  more  often 
than  not  dealt  with  serious  and  complex  problems  or  issues  and  their 
solutions  were  arrived  at  in  a  logical  and  non-gimmicky  fashion. 

A  few  of  the  other  fine  stories  appearing  this  year  were  Kate  Wil¬ 
helm’s  short  story,  “The  Mile  Long  Spaceship”  (April),  “Needier,”  by 
Randall  Garrett  (June),  another  of  his  short  novels,  a  short  novel  by 
Isaac  Asimov,  “Profession”  (July),  “Look  Out!  Duck!,”  a  farce  by 
David  Gordon  (September),  Christopher  Anvil’s  “The  Gentle  Earth” 
(November),  and  “Precedent,”  by  Robert  Silverberg  (December). 

Kelly  Freas  contributed  six  of  the  twelve  covers  for  the  year,  Febru¬ 
ary  for  “Omnilingual,”  a  real  beauty  for  April  illustrating  “Call  Me 
Joe,”  July  for  “Profession,”  August  for  “Brake,”  November  for  “The 
Gentle  Earth”  and  December  for  “Precedent.”  Van  Dongen  was  present 
with  the  January  cover  for  “Get  Out  of  My  Sky,”  March  for  “The  Dawn¬ 
ing  Light,”  June  for  “Ribbon  in  the  Sky,”  and  September  for  “Citizen  of 
the  Galaxy.”  Emsh  had  two  covers,  the  May  cover  for  “What’s  Eating 
You?”  and  a  symbolic  or  “story”  cover  for  October,  “Thinking  Ma¬ 
chine.”  (The  cover  for  May,  and  the  story  it  illustrates  represents  a 
fine  fusion  of  the  talents  of  an  artist  and  a  writer.  It  seems  that  Emsh 
went  to  Campbell’s  office  one  day  with  an  idea  for  a  symbolic  cover, 
and  a  fine  idea  it  was,  too.  Present  in  Campbell’s  office  at  the  time 
was  Randall  Garrett  and  the  three  of  them  started  kicking  the  idea 
arotmd  with  the  end  result  being  an  excellent  cover  painting  and  an 
excellent  story,  each  the  partial  inspiration  of  the  other.) 

Poul  Anderson  completely  dominated  Astounding  in  the  serial  depart¬ 
ment  in  1958  with  three:  “The  Man  Who  Counts”  (February/April),  “We 
Have  Fed  Our  Seas”  (August/September),  and  “A  Bicycle  Built  for  Brew” 
(November/December).  “The  Man  Who  Counts”  concerned  the  adven¬ 
tures  of  Nicholas  van  Rijn,  head  of  the  Solar  Spice  &  Liquor  Company, 
who  crash-lands  in  a  great  empty  ocean  on  the  giant  planet  Diomedes, 
and  gets  involved  in  a  local  war  of  the  natives  of  the  area.  Anderson 
is  almost  without  a  peer  when  it  comes  to  writing  swashbuckling  ad- 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING  209 

venture  tales,  and  in  this  he  buckles  a  swash  with  the  best  of  them. 
But  accenting  the  action,  color  and  characters  (particularly  van  Rijn — 
“the  man  who  counts”)  in  this  novel  is  the  obvious  painstaking  care  he 
has  taken  in  constructing  his  world  of  Diomedes  on  a  soundly  scientific 
foundation. 

“We  Have  Fed  Our  Seas”  (published  in  book  form  as  The  Enemy 
Stars,  Lippincott,  1958)  was  the  memorable  and  haunting  story  of  the 
starship  Southern  Cross,  its  centuries-long  journey  and  the  men  who 
manned  it — particularly  the  last  four  on  whom  the  destiny  of  the  ship 
hinged.  This  is  one  of  Poul  Anderson’s  very  finest  novels  and  will  in 
time.  I’m  sure,  come  to  be  regarded  as  a  classic.  His  remaining 
novel  of  the  year,  “A  Bicycle  Built  For  Brew,”  was  definitely  not,  nor 
intended  to  be,  a  serious  novel.  It  was,  instead,  a  very  delightful 
space  romp  built  around  the  gimmick  of  using  beer  as  a  rocket  fuel. 

The  fourth  novel  for  1958  was  another  of  Hal  Clement’s  meticulously 
detailed  pictures  of  a  planet  brutally  alien  to  humans,  its  ecology,  and 
the  reactions  of  a  group  of  humans  suddenly  thrust  into  this  alien 
environment.  “Close  To  Critical”  was  its  name  and  it  left  many  readers 
completely  cold  (May/ July). 

There  seems,  in  retrospect,  to  have  been  a  dearth  of  stories  of 
classic  calibre  published  in  1958  other  than  “We  Have  Fed  Our  Seas” 
and,  possibly,  “The  Man  Who  Counts.”  However,  there  were  a  few 
shorter  works  of  more  than  transient  interest,  among  them  Pauline 
Ashwell’s  wonderfully  wacky  tale  of  Lizzie  Lee,  late  of  the  planet 
Excensus  23,  currently  in  her  first  year  of  Cultural  Engineering  at 
Russett  Interplanetary  College  of  Humanities  on  Earth,  which  is  told 
in  the  first  person  by  L.Lee  in  a  manner  that  violates  just  about  every 
rule  of  English  grammar,  punctuation  and  composition  in  the  book,  and 
then  some,  in  “Unwillingly  to  School”  (January).  L.  Sprague  de  Camp 
returned  to  Astoimding  with  a  typically  logical  deCamp  yarn  concerning 
the  results  obtained  from  an  attempt  by  a  twentieth  century  time-travel¬ 
ing  scientist  to  introduce  advanced  scientific  concepts  into  classical 
Greek  times,  in  “Aristotle  and  the  Gun”  (February),  and  Jack  Vance, 
in  “The  Miracle  Workers”  (July),  painted  a  brilliant  word  picture  of  a 
planet  where  science  functions  in  the  guise  of  magic,  (In  various  of 
the  illustrations  to  Vance’s  story,  Kelly  Freas  used  as  models  John 
W.  Campbell,  Robert  Silverberg,  Randall  Garrett,  and  Ed  Emsh — I’ll 
leave  it  to  the  readers  to  make  their  own  identifications.)  Not  the  least 
of  the  stories  published  this  year  was  Clifford  D.  Simak’s  “The  Big 
Front  Yard”  (October),  a  variation  on  Simak’s  recurring  theme  that 
most  extraterrestrial  aliens  man  will  come  in  contact  with  will  be 
basically  friendly. 

Four  artists  were  used  on  the  covers  in  1958,  Freas,  van  Dongen, 
Emsh,  and  Martinez.  Freas  had  the  January  Christmas  cover,  the 
March  cover  for  Dean  McLaughlin’s  “The  Man  on  the  Bottom,”  April 
for  Russell’s  “Basic  Right,”  a  beautiful  thing  for  “The  Miracle  Workers” 
in  July,  and  one  for  “The  Big  Front  Yard”  for  October.  Van  Dongen 
had  a  colorless  painting  for  “The  Man  Who  Counts”  in  February,  a 


210 


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quite  good  one  for  “Close  to  Critical”  in  May,  and  in  August  for  “We 
Have  Fed  Our  Seas”  and  November  for  “A  Bicycle  Built  for  Brew.” 
The  September  cover  was  an  iminspiring  “story”  painting  by  Martinez, 
“Common  Ground,”  and  Emsh  had  two  “story”  covers,  both  excellent, 
“Pastoral”  for  Jime  and  “The  Fundamentals  Don’t  Change”  for  Decem¬ 
ber.  It  might  be  worth  noting  in  passing  that  with  the  February  issue. 
Astounding  instituted  the  practice,  continued  well  into  the  Analog  years, 
of  beginning  each  story  with  a  stylized  initial,  a  T-square  for  “T”,  a 
suture  needle  for  “C”,  etc. 

It  is  poetically  fitting  that  the  best  serial  of  1959,  the  last  year  of 
Astounding,  was  by  the  man  who  had  the  best  story  in  the  very  first 
issue  of  ^toimding  thirty  years  earlier,  Murray  Leinster.  “The 
Pirates  of  Ersatz*  (February/ April)  was  one  of  the  landing  grid 
stories  and  a  thoroughly  enjoyable  yarn.  This  was  the  story  of  Bron 
Hoddan,  a  young  man  of  ideals  who  rebels  against  the  space  piracy 
practiced  by  his  family  on  the  planet  Zan  and  makes  his  way  to  Walden, 
the  most  civilized  planet  in  that  part  of  the  galaxy,  to  make  his  fortune 
as  an  elec’.ronic  engineer,  grow  rich,  and  marry  a  pretty  girl.  Need¬ 
less  to  s'.y,  many  adventures  befall  our  hero  before  he  realizes  his  goals. 

Gordrn  R.  Dickson  had  a  better  than  average  novel  in  “Dorsail” 
(May//uly),  an  examination  of  an  interplanetary  culture  in  which  a 
small  plainet.  Dorsal,  whose  chief  export  is  mercenary  soldiers,  plays 
a  leading  role.  Mark  Phillips  (Laurence  M.  Janifer  and  Randall 
Garrett)  contributed  a  tale  in  which  psionics  rim  wild,  “That  Sweet 
Little  Old  Lady”  (September/October),  the  main  character  of  which  is 
the  son  of  one  John  J.  Malone,  the  immortal  hard  drinking  Irish  attorney 
created  by  Craig  Rice  for  her  detective  novels.  And  finally,  Everett 
B .  Cole  closed  out  the  year,  the  decade,  and  thirty  years  of  Astounding 
with  an  entertaining  but  inconsequential  two-part  novel,  “The  Best 
Made  Plans”  (November/December),  about  a  struggle  for  political 
power  on  a  colonial  planet. 

Let’s  face  it;  1959  just  was  not  a  year  of  great,  or  even  particularly 
memorable  stories,  although  it  did  have  its  share  of  readable  stories 
competently  written.  In  January  there  were  Poul  Anderson’s  “Robin 
Hood’s  Barn”  and  one  of  the  Rim  stories  of  A.  Bertram  Chandler,  “To 
Run  the  Rim,”  as  well  as  “A  Study  in  Still  Life”  by  Eric  Frank  Russell. 
In  March,  David  Gordon  (Randall  Garrett)  told  the  story  of  Pizarro’s 
conquest  of  Peru  in  such  a  manner  that,  until  the  last  line,  it  read  like 
a  tale  of  interplanetary  conquest  and  derring-do  straight  out  of  the 
pages  of  the  late  Pl^et  Stories.  This  was  “Despoilers  of  the  Golden 
Empire”;  it  was  illustrated  magnificently  by  Kelly  Freas  whose  full- 
page  frontispiece  to  the  story  is  the  finest  single  black  and  white  draw¬ 
ing  he  has  done  for  Astoxmding.  Winston  P.  Sanders  made  his  debut  in 
Astounding  with  a  cover  story,  “Wherever  You  Are,”  which  featured  a 
horrible  b^-eyed  monster  who  was  deathly  afraid  of  the  girl.  (Winston 
P.  Sanders  is  the  pseudonym  of  a  leading  science  fiction  author  who, 
for  purely  personal  reasons,  has  asked  that  his  real  name  not  be  made 
public.  Anyone  familiar  with  “Winnie-the-Pooh”  should  be  able  to  spot 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


211 


the  derivation  of  the  name  “Winston  P.  Sanders,”  however.)  A  few 
more  stories  worthy  of  at  least  a  mention  are:  “Transfusion”  by  Chad 
Oliver  (June),  Randall  Garrett’s  “But,  I  Don’t  Think”  (July)  and  “The 
Destroyers”  (December),  “The  Aliens”  by  Murray  Leinster  and  another 
of  Chandler’s  Rim  stories,  “The  Outsiders”  (August),  “Dodkin’s  Job” 
by  Jack  Vance  (October),  and  “A  Filbert  Is  a  Nut”  by  Rick  Raphael 
(November) . 

Kelly  Freas  had  six  covers,  January,  “Merry  Christmas,”  a  lovely 
painting  of  a  pirate  for  February’s  “The  Pirates  of  Ersatz,”  a  real 
wild  BEM  for  “Wherever  You  Are”  in  April,  July  for  “But,  I  Don’t 
Think,”  September  for  “That  Sweet  Little  Old  Lady,”  and  October  for 
Christopher  Anvil’s  “The  Lawbreakers.”  Van  Dongen  had  the  May, 
June,  August,  November  and  December  covers,  and  Emsh  had  one 
“story”  cover,  “Adventure  is  Somewhere  Else,”  for  March. 

This  has  been  a  very  brief  resume  of  the  twenty-eight  novels  and  a 
few  of  the  better  novelettes  and  short  stories  appearing  in  Astounding 
during  the  magazine’s  final  decade.  Of  the  twenty-eight  novels  published 
during  the  fifties,  only  a  handful  stand  out  as  worthy  to  take  their  places 
along  side  the  classics  of  the  first  twenty  years:  “To  the  Stars,”  “The 
Wizard  of  Linn,”  “Gunner  Cade,”  “The  Currents  of  Space,”  “The  Long 
Way  Home,”  “Double  Star,”  “Under  Pressure,”  “The  Naked  Sun,” 
“Citizen  of  the  Galaxy,”  “We  Have  Fed  Our  Seas,”  “Mission  of  Gravity.” 
Of  the  shorter  fiction  one  would  have  to  draw  from  the  full  ten  years  of 
the  fifties  to  compile  a  list  of  classically  memorable  stories  the  equal 
of  a  comparable  list  from  the  Golden  Age  of  Astounding,  1939  to  1943. 

The  stories  published  in  Astounding  during  the  fifties  were,  in  the 
main,  better  written  and  more  mature  than  most  of  the  earlier  stories 
— even  those  of  the  Golden  i^e.  But  in  spite  of  this  most  of  them  failed 
to  grab  at  the  imagination  and  emotions  as  did  many  of  the  less  polished 
and  sophisticated  stories  of  the  thirties  and  forties.  The  late  Cleve 
Cartmill,  in  an  article  written  for  an  amateur  magazine  published  by 
the  author  (Bixel  No.  1,  September,  1962),  characterized  the  science 
fiction  of  the  late  forties  and  the  fifties  as  “inanimately  introspective,” 
and  explained  his  meaning  in  this  way: 

(After  the  war  the  serious  science  fiction  writer)  turned  (his) 
thoughts  inward.  What  is  man,  why  is  man,  where  is  he  going? 
That  sort  of  thing. 

This  is  all  very  fine,  and  has  been  the  subject  in  one  respect 
or  others  of  some  rewarding  “mainstream”  fiction.  But  when 
you  try  to  fit  it  into  the  traditional  format  of  science  fiction  it 
sometimes  becomes  dull  reading,  talky,  pedestrian,  probing 
without  action. 

The  late  Hank  Kuttner  once  told  me,  “First  you  get  your  hero 
up  a  tree.  Then  you  throw  rocks  at  him.”  This  was  science 
fiction:  action  and  reader  identification.  And  if  the  story 


212 


ALVA  ROGERS 


started  to  sag,  you  had  somebody  walk  through  a  door  (or  a 
wall)  with  a  blaster  in  his  hand. 

It  wasn’t  sophisticated,  maybe;  it  wasn’t  slick.  But  it  was 
entertaining,  and  if  the  writer  wove  in  a  philosophical  theme  it 
seemed  to  have  stature. 

The  primary  purpose  of  fiction  is  to  entertain.  So  says 
Somerset  Maugham,  who  ought  to  know. 

This  is  what  science  fiction  seems  to  have  stopped  doing 
some  time  ago.  The  hero  starts  on  a  perfectly  legitimate 
project  of  mayhem,  arson,  and  world-saving,  and  he  soon  be¬ 
comes  heavy  laden  with  problems  of  a  social,  religious,  or 
sexual  nature  and  all  he  does  is  talk  about  them. 

When  he  gets  up  a  tree,  instead  of  dodging  brickbats  he 
dodges  issues. 

Whether  or  not  one  entirely  agrees  with  Mr.  Cartmill,  he  does  have 
a  point. 

In  the  fifties.  Astounding  came  up  against  some  stiff  competition 
from  a  number  of  magazines,  some  old,  some  new.  Of  the  older  maga¬ 
zines,  Thrilling  Wonder  Stories  and  Startling  Stories  were  the  two 
which,  in  the  early  fifties,  published  a  steady  stream  of  excellent  novels 
and  novelettes  by  Murray  Leinster,  Jack  Vance,  Leigh  Brackett,  Edmond 
Hamilton,  L.  Sprague  de  Camp,  Philip  Jose  Farmer,  Arthur  C. Clarke, 
Poul  Anderson  and  others. 

It  was,  however,  from  two  new  magazines  that  Astounding  received 
its  greatest  challenge  to  its  preeminence  in  the  field:  The  Magazine 
of  Fantasy  and  Science  Fiction  (first  issue.  Fall,  1949),  and  Galaxy 
Science  Fiction  (first  issue,  October,  1950).  With  the  advent  of  these 
two  magazines.  Astounding  was  no  longer  the  single  quality  market 
paying  top  rates.  Fantasy  and  Science  Fiction  concentrated  on  short 
stories,  but  as  time  went  on  longer  stories  became  more  frequent,  and 
in  time  a  few  serials  appeared,  many  of  them— although  not  all— by 
authors  heretofore  largely  identified  with  Astounding:  Poul  Anderson’s 
two-parter,  the  first  serial  to  be  published  in  the  magazine,  “Three 
Hearts  and  Three  Lions”  (September/October,  1953),  “A  Canticle  for 
Leibowitz,”  by  Walter  M.  Miller,  Jr.  (April,  1955),  “TTie  (Widget),  the 
(Wadget),  and  Boff,”  by  Theodore  Sturgeon  (November/December,  1955), 
“Rite  of  Passage,”  by  C.  L.  Moore  and  Henry  Kuttner  (May,  1956),  and 
four  serials  from  Robert  Heinlein,  “Star  Lummox”  (May/ July,  1954), 
“The  Door  Into  Siunmer”  (October/December,  1956),  “Have  Spacesuit 
— Will  Travel”  (August/October,  1958),  and  the  Hugo  Award  winner, 
“Starship  Soldier”  (October/November,  1959). 

Galaxy  (edited  by  H.  L.  Gold  imtil  1961,  since  then  by  Frederik  Pohl) 
came  on  the  scene  with  a  great  fanfare  and  the  boast  that  it  would  soon 
be  the  munber  one  science  fiction  magazine — and  for  a  time  it  looked 
as  if  that  would  be  the  case.  From  the  beginning  Galaxy  was  extremely 
strong  in  the  serial  and  novella  department,  starting  its  career  with  a 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


213 


major  three-part  novel  by  Clifford  D,  Simak,  ‘Time  Quarry”  (October 
/December,  1950:  published  as  Time  and  Time  ^ain,  by  Simon  & 
Schuster,  1950,  and  as  First  He  Died,  by  Dell,  1951),  which  was  followed 
immediately  by  Isaac  Asimov’s  three-parter,  “Tyrann”  (The  Stars 
Like  Dust)  (January/March,  1951),  In  the  following  months  and  years. 
Galaxy  published  such  important  novels  and  novellas  as:  ‘The  Puppet 
Masters,”  by  Robert  Heinlein  (September/November,  1951),  “The 
Demolished  Man,”  by  Alfred  Bester  (January/March,  1952),  “Gravy 
Planet”  (The  Space  Merchants),  by  C.  M.  Kornbluth  and  Frederik  Pohl 
(June/ August,  1952),  “The  Fireman,”  by  Ray  Bradbury  (February, 
1951),  “Baby  is  Three,”  by  Theodore  Sturgeon  (October,  1952),  and 
many  others. 

The  fifties  saw  the  Big  Boom  in  science  fiction  during  which  an  in¬ 
credible  number  of  science  fiction  magazines  came  on  the  scene,  and 
it  also  saw,  by  the  end  of  the  decade,  the  Big  Bust  which  reduced  the 
field  to  a  handful  of  hardy  survivors.  (Among  the  older  victims  of  the 
big  bust  were  such  important  magazines  as  Thrilling  Wonder  Stories, 
Startling  Stories,  Famous  Fantastic  Mysteries,  Planet  Stories,  Super 
Science  Stories  and  Weird  Tales.)  Some  of  these  magazines  lasted 


214 


ALVA  ROGERS 


Of  lesser  importance  than  the  World  Science  Fiction  Convention  are 
the  various  annual  Regional  Conferences  such  as  the  Midwestern 
Regional  Science  Fiction  Conference  (the  MidWesCon)  held  in 
Cincinnati  each  June  and  the  West  Coast  Science  Fantasy  Conference 
(the  Westercon)  held  each  year  in  a  different  city  on  the  West  Coast. 
Since  1950,  the  Westercon  has  traditionally  selected  a  Guest  of  Honor. 
Those  chosen  for  this  honor  are  authors  residing  in  the  Western  states 
and  several  of  them  have,  at  one  time  or  another,  been  strongly  linked 
to  Astoimding.  At  the  3rd  Westercon  in  Los  Angeles  in  1950,  Dr.  R.  S. 
Richardson  was  presented  as  the  ‘Featured  Speaker,”  but  from  the 
following  year  on,  the  Westercons  followed  the  practice  of  the  World 
Conventions  and  chose  a  Guest  of  Honor;  Jack  Williamson  at  the  7th  in 
San  Francisco  (1954;  this  Westercon  was  combined  with  the  12th  World 
Convention  at  which  Campbell  was  Guest  of  Honor);  Mark  Clifton  at  the 
10th  in  Hollywood  (1957),  Fritz  Leiber  at  the  14th  in  Oakland  (1961), 
and  Jack  Vance  at  the  ISth  in  Los  Angeles  (1962). 

Considering  the  outstanding  competition  for  Hugos  in  the  nine  years 
they  have  been  presented  between  1953  and  1963  (no  awards  were  given 
at  San  Francisco  in  1954),  Astounding  has  not  done  too  badly.  Taking 
the  awards  as  presented  through  the  years  of  Astounding*s  existence: 

1953  Philadelphia 

Astounding  tied  with  Galaxy  for  best  magazine,  but  lost  out 
in  all  other  categories. 

1955  Cleveland 

“They’d  Rather  Be  Right”  by  Mark  Clifton  and  Frank  Riley 
(August/November,  1954)  won  the  award  for  best  novel,  “The 
Darfsteller”  by  Walter  M.  Miller  (January,  1955)  won  for  the 
best  novelette,  and  “Allamagoosa”  by  Eric  Frank  Russell  (May, 
1955)  for  short  story— all  from  Astounding.  Frank  Kelly  Freas 
won  the  Hugo  for  his  superior  covers  and  interior  illustrations 
from  Astounding,  and  Astounding  was  awarded  the  Hugo  as  best 
magazine— a  clean  sweep! 

1956  New  York 

Heinlein’s  “Double  Star”  (February/ April,  1956)  won  the 
award  for  best  novel,  “Ejploration  Team”  by  Murray  Leinster 


Astounding 

SCIENCE  FICTION 

«eln«  .  .  . 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


215 


(March,  1956)  for  best  novelette,  Frank  Kelly  Freas,  again  for 
his  Astounding  covers  and  interiors,  and  Astounding  again 
awarded  the  best  magazine  trophy. 

1957  London 

Astoundiiig  won  as  the  best  American  Professional  Magazine. 

1958  Los  Angeles 

Astounding  lost  out  all  along  the  line,  except  for  Freas,  who 
was  awarded  the  Hugo  for  his  artwork.  However,  by  this  time 
Freas  was  doing  work  for  other  magazines  and  couldn’t  rightly 
be  considered  exclusively  an  Astounding  artist. 

1959  Detroit 

Astounding  didn’t  do  too  well  this  year,  either.  The  only 
trophies  garnered  by  ^tounding  were  for  best  novelette,  “The 
Big  Front  Yard”  by  Clifford  D.  Simak  (October,  1958),  and 
another  award  to  Kelly  Freas  for  his  artwork. 

1960  Pittsburgh 

For  the  second  time.  Astounding  drew  a  complete  blank!  It 
didn’t  even  have,  as  it  did  in  1958,  an  award  to  Kelly  Freas  to 
save  it  from  total  disaster. 

Beyond  this  point,  though  Astounding  no  longer  existed. 
Analog  continued  to  collect  a  few  trophies,  but  that  is  another 
magazine  entirely,  and  another  story.  We  need  not  concern 
ourselves  with  them  in  this  tabulation. 

A  lot  has  been  left  unsaid  about  Astounding  during  the  fifties,  but  it 
was  never  an  intention  to  deal  too  extensively  with  the  last  ten  years 
of  the  magazine’s  life.  For  a  representative  sampling  of  the  shorter 
fiction  published  in  Astounding  during  this  period  (not  the  best,  however) 
the  anthology  Prologue  to  Analog  (Doubleday,  1962)  is  recommended. 
Edited,  of  course,  by  John  W.  Campbell,  it  contains  stories  from  1953 
to  1960,  and  an  interesting  introduction  by  Campbell  explaining  the 
rational  behind  the  metamorphosis  from  Astounding  Science  Fiction  to 
Analog  Science  Fact  -  Science  Fiction. 

But  for  a  detailed  look  at  Astounding  from  1950  to  1959  and  Analog 

from  1960  to _  we  must  wait  for  another  historian  to  step  forward, 

one  with  a  stronger  affection  and  a  higher  regard  for  the  magazine  in 


216 


ALVA  ROGERS 


those  years  than  the  present  chronicler. 

Astounding  was  born  in  the  lean  years  of  the  Great  Depression  and 
died  in  the  fat  years  of  the  fifties.  But,  of  course,  it  didn’t  really  die; 
it  simply  changed  its  costume  and  assumed  a  new  name,  one  more  in 
keeping  with  the  times. 

From  a  science  fiction  fan’s  viewpoint  it  was  my  great  good  fortune 
to  discover  the  magazine  in  one  of  its  greatest  and  most  colorful  years 
—  1934,  and  to  remain  an  intensely  devoted  fan  of  the  magazine  for  the 
next  ten  or  twelve  years.  If  the  intensity  of  my  devotion  to  the  magazine 
tapered  off  after  that  it  was  only  in  a  matter  of  degrees.  It’s  too  much 
to  expect  the  same  degree  of  ardency  fifteen,  or  twenty,  or  thirty  years 
after  a  love  affair  begins.  Love  remains  and  respect  is  there,  but  it’s 
mellowed  and  tempered  by  time. 

There  never  was  nor  will  there  ever  be  another  magazine  quite  like 
Astoimding  from  1930  to  1943— it  was  unique.  Astoimding,  during  its 
entire  lifetime,  was  a  constantly  mutating  magazine.  During  most  of 
its  lifetime  it  was  an  exciting  magazine.  If,  after  1943,  or— stretching 
it  a  bit— 1949,  much  of  the  excitement  of  earlier  years  lessened  for 
me  and  others  of  my  generation  of  readers  and  fans,  it  is  not  necessarily 
the  fault  of  the  magazine  or  the  editor,  but  our  fault — for  growing  old. 

And  old  science  fiction  fans  love  to  reminisce  about  the  great  years 
of  the  twenties  and  thirties,  the  Golden  Age  of  the  forties. 

This  book  has  been  one  slightly  aging  fan’s  affectionate  reminiscence 
of  a  great  magazine.  By  the  time  this  book  is  published  I  will  have 
been  reading  Astounding  (and  Analog)  for  a  full  thirty  years:  I  hope  to 
be  reading  Analog  (or  whatever  the  title  might  be  then)  thirty  years 
from  now.  But  one  thing  you  can  be  sure  of,  and  that  is,  if  I  am  alive 
and  reading  Analog  (or  whatever)  in  1994  I  will  still  occasionally  think 
back  to  the  Astounding  of  the  fabulous  thirties  and  the  incomparable, 
legendary  Golden  Age  of  the  forties  and  renew  old  friendships  with 
Hawk  Carse,  Dick  Seaton,  Martin  Crane,  Aarn  Munro,  “Old  Faithful,” 
Kimball  Kinnison,  Jommy  Cross,  “The  Lieutenant,”  Robert  Bedrock, 
Lazarus  Long,  and  . . .  but  the  list  is  endless . 

The  list  is  endless  and  the  characters  are  imperishable,  unforgetta¬ 
ble.  May  none  of  them,  and  the  stories  that  gave  them  being,  ever  be 
totally  forgotten.  If  this  book  helps  to  insure  this  in  even  a  small  way. 


leiK 

ct  &  fiction 


Goin9 


A  REQUIEM  FOR  ASTOUNDING 


217 


I  will  be  content. 

And  if  this  book  gives  the  reader  some  small  portion  of  the  pleasure 
it  gave  me  in  the  writing,  stimulates  an  interest  in  and  an  appreciation 
of  the  past  of  this  great  and  wonderful  magazine,  I  will  be  doubly  con¬ 
tent  and  feel  that  I  have  been  bountifully  repaid  for  these  pleasurable 
labors. 

A  labor  of  love  is  really  not  labor  at  all. 


218 


ALVA  ROGERS 


SOME  ASTOUNDING  PEOPLE 


Abrams,  John  W.,  155 
Alejandro  (pseudonym  of  Alejandro 
Canedo,  q.v.),  141,  148,  155,  157, 

166,  181,  200,  204 
Alexander  the  Great,  145 
Alvarez,  John  (pseudonym  of  Ramon 

F.  Alvarez  del  Rey),  120 
Anderson,  Poul,  133,  143,  144,  146,  148, 
155,  158,  164,  174,  191,  194,  195,  201, 
202,  203,  204,  207,  208,  209,  210,  212, 
213 

Anvil,  Christopher,  206,  208,  211 
Apostolides,  Alex,  202,  203 
Arrhenius,  Svante,  56 
Ashwell,  Pauline,  209 
Asimov,  Isaac,  68,  69,  81,  83,  90,  92,  95, 
97,  100,  104,  105,  106,  107,  108,  112, 
118,  131,  134,  137,  144,  155,  158,  166, 

167,  170,  171,  172,  173,  174,  176,  184, 
194,  199,  202,  203,  205,  206,  207,  208, 
213 


Baer,  Austin  R.,  202 
Bates,  Harry,  vii,  viii-xvi,  xxii,  4,  9,  10, 
12,  14,  18,  22,  30,  32,  36,  64,  83,  93, 
153,  182,  183,  184 
Bathurst,  Benjamin,  163 
Bell,  Eric  Temple  (see  also  John  Taine), 
32 

Beresford,  J.  D.,  81 
Berryman,  John,  66 

Bester,  Alfred,  64,  72  ,  94  ,  96,  100,  106, 
213 

Binder,  Eando  (pseudonym  of  Earl  and 
Otto  Binder),  41,  46,  51,  63,  91 
Binder,  Jack,  62,  63 
BlUh,  James,  188,  189,  195,  198,  200, 
202,  203,  204,  206,  207 
Bond,  Nelson  S.,  69,  86,  100 


BonesteU,  Chesley,  148,  157,  166,  167, 
176,  181,  195,  198,  204 
Bonner,  Paul  H.,  Jr.,  xxlli 
Boucher,  Anthony  (pseudonym  of  William 
Anthony  Parker  White),  109,  114,  120, 
122,  124,  125,  127,  169 
Brackett,  Leigh,  104,  212 
Bradbury,  Ray,  125,  213 
Brand,  Max,  98 
Breuer,  Miles  J.,  2 
Brown,  Fredrlc,  130,  131,  204 
Brown,  Howard  V.,  15(lllo),  16,  19(mo), 
22,  24,  29,  31,  37(Ulo),  38,  39,  41,  49, 
54,  57,  58,  60,  63,  84,  91,  141 
Brown,  Jim,  200 
Brush,  (artist),  195 

Burks,  Arthur  J.,  13,  42,  51,  54  ,  57,  62, 
63,  66 

Burroughs,  Edgar  Rice,  vi,  1,  2,  63,  171, 
190 

Burroughs,  Hulbert,  63 
Burroughs,  John  Coleman,  63 

Campbell,  Clyde  Crane  (pseudonym  of 
H.  L.  Gold),  52 

CampbeU,  John  W.  Jr.  (see  also  Don  A. 
Stuart  and  Karl  van  Kampen),  vi,  vii, 
xvi,  xix-xxi,  xxii,  2,  28,  29,  30,  31,  33, 
35,  41,  42,  44,  46,  48,  49,  50,  52,  54, 
56,  57,  58,  60,  62,  63,  64,  65,  66,  72, 
73,  74,  82,  84,  85,  86,  88,  96,  98,  100, 
108,  117,  118,  124,  125,  126,  128,  129, 
132,  133,  138,  142,  143,  144,  152,  153, 
154,  155,  156,  157,  167,  176,  177,  181, 
183,  184,  185,  187,  192,  193,  194,  199, 
202,  204,  208,  209,  213,  215 
Canedo,  Alejandro  (see  Alejandro),  166 
Capek,  Karel,  116 
Carroll,  Lewis,  115 

Cartier,  Edd,  64,  83,  142,  155,  157,  160, 


219 


220 


INDEX 


166(1110),  167,  181,  186,  190,  195 
Cartmill,  Cleve,  64,  109,  110,  111,  120, 
132,  133,  138,  211,  212 
Chandler,  A.  Bertram,  134,  136,  140, 
141,  210 

Chaplin,  Charles,  xx 
Christopher,  John  (pseudonym  of 
Christopher  Youd),  174 
Clarke,  Arthur  C.,  140,  212 
Claudius,  Emperor,  139 
Clayton,  William,  ix,  x,  xi,  xil,  xlll,  xiv, 
XV,  xvl,  4,  12,  14,  182 
Clement,  Hal,  107,  108,  109,  125,  129, 
141,  170,  171 

Clifton,  Mark,  202,  203,  204,  205,  214 
Coblentz,  Stanton  A.,  2 
Cogswell,  Theodore  R.,  200 
Cole,  Everett  B.,  196,  203,  205,  206,  210 
Conklin,  Groff,  6 
Conreld,  Hans,  110 
Coppel,  Alfred,  Jr.,  155 
Corbett,  Chan  (pseudonym  of  Nathan 
Schachner),  41,  42 

Correy,  Lee  (pseudonym  of  G.  Harry 
Stine),  202 

Corwin,  Cecil  (pseudonym  of  C.  M. 

Kombluth),  191 
Corwin,  Norman,  138 
Cot^ling,  J.  J.  (pseudonym  of  John  R. 
Pierce),  167 

Crawford,  WlUiam,  54,  63 
Cummings,  Ray,  1,  2,  3,  4,  6,  8,  12,  20, 
57,  64,  65,  70,  183 


Doyle,  A.  Conan,  110 

Edison,  Thomas  Alva,  5 
Edwards,  Dolton,  140 
Eisensteln,  Alex,  xxll 
EUik,  Ron,  153 
Elliott,  Carlyle,  14 
Elstar,  Dow,  51 

Emsh,  Ed,  205,  207,  208,  209,  210,  211 

Engelhard!,  Frederick,  70 

England,  George  Allan,  1,  2 

Ernst,  Paul,  6 

Eshbach,  Lloyd  Arthur,  153 

Evans,  Bill,  153 

Evans,  E.  Everett,  153 

Falconer,  Kenneth  (pseudonym  of  C.  M. 

Kombluth),  191 
Farley,  Ralph  Milne,  33,  40 
Farmer,  Philip  Jose,  212 
Fax,  (artist),  118 

Fearn,  John  Russell,  22 
Finlay,  Virgil,  63,  70 
Flagg,  Francis,  9 
Flint,  Homer  Eon,  1 
Fort,  Charles,  22,  28,  31,  64,  162,  164 
Freas,  Frank  Kelly,  186,  202,  204,  205, 

206,  208,  209,  210,  211,  214,  215 
Frew,  John,  60 

Futurians,  Golden  Gate,  v 
Fyfe,  H.  B.,  164 

Gallun,  Raymond  Z.,  30,  32,  36,  56,  57 
Garby,  Lee  Hawkins  (Mrs.),  26 
Garrett,  Randall  (see  also  David  Gordon, 
Robert  Randall,  and  Mark  Phillips),  196, 

207,  208,  209,  210,  211 
Gaughan,  Jack,  195 

Gemsback,  Hugo,  1,  2,  31,  63,  129,  203 


Davis,  Bob,  1 
de  Camp,  Catherine,  181 
de  Camp,  L.  Sprague  (see  also  Lyman  R. 

Lyon),  24,  42,  53,  55,  57,  60,  64,  66, 

69,  70,  83,  84,  87,  88,  96,  98,  99,  108, 

122,  155,  167,  170,  171,  176,  177,  181,  Giesy,  J.  U.,  l' 

190,  195,  196,  209,  212  Gilmore,  (artist),  74,  76 

del  Rey,  Lester  (pseudonym  of  Ramon  F.  Gilmore,  Anthony  (pseudonym  of  Harry 
Alvarez  del  Rey),  50,  57,  66,  70,  76,  78,  Bates  and  Desmond  Hall),  8,  9,  10,  11, 
80,  81,  110,  112,  118,  120,  176,  177,  205  18,  30 

del  Rey,  Ramon  F.  Alvarez  (see  Lester  Gladney,  Graves,  62, 


Glamis,  Walter  (pseudonym  of  Nathan 
Schachner),  16 
Godwin,  Tom,  203 

Gold,  Horace  L.  (see  also  Clyde  Crane 
CampbeU),  52,  57,  58,  62,  64,  76,  199, 


del  Rey  and  John  Alvarez),  50 
Dempsey,  Jack,  98 
Deutsch,  A.  J.,  189 
Dickson,  Gordon  R.,  210 
Dlffln,  Charles  Willard,  6,  7,  11,  20,  37 

Dold,  Douglas  M.,  ix,  xli,  xiil,  4,  11,  31  _ 

Dold,  EUlott,  4,  21(lUo),  25(Ulo),  27(lllo),  Gordon,  David  (Randall  Garrett)  208  210 
31,  34(lllo),  35(illo),  38,  40(Ulo),  42,  Gordon,  Peter,  16 
126,  167  Gottesman,  S.  D.  (pseudonym  of  C.  M. 

Donaho,  WlUiam,  v,  vli,  xxii  Kombluth),  191 

Donovan,  Francis,  205  Graves,  Robert,  139,  155 


INDEX 


221 


Grosser,  E.  A.,  86 

haLevy,  Al,  vil 
Hall,  Austin,  1 

Hall,  Desmond  W.,  xvl,  4,  10,  18 
Hamilton,  Edmond,  2,  6,  46,  47,  65,  110, 

Harl,  Mata,  133 
Healy,  Raymond  J.,  56 
Heinlein,  Robert  A.  (see  also  Anson 
MacDonald,  Lyle  Monroe  and  Caleb 
Saunders),  59,  64,  69,  70,  74,  76,  77, 
79,  80,  81,  82,  86,  87,  88,  89,  90,  91, 
93,  96,  97,  99,  100,  106,  108,  110,  112, 
118,  124,  134,  138,  141,  145,  155,  162, 
170,  171,  176,  177,  184,  187,  194,  195, 
206,  207,  212,  213,  214 
Henry,  O.,  88 
Herbert,  Frank,  204,  205 
Hersey,  Harold,  vill,  xli,  4,  31 
Hickey,  Richard,  vil,  xxll 
Hickey,  Rosemary,  vii,  xxii 
Hicks,  (artist),  195 

Hoen,  Richard  A.,  176,  177 
Holmes,  H.  H.  (pseudonym  of  William 
Anthony  Parker  White),  110,  116,  122 
Homig,  Charles  D.,  18,  50,  64 
Howard,  Robert  E.,  64,  171 
Hubbard,  L.  Ron  (see  also  Kurt  von 
Rachen  and  Rene  Lafayette),  52,  57, 
64,  76,  77,  78,  80,  84,  100,  108,  110, 
148,  155,  165,  172,  188,  192,  193,  196, 
208 

Hugi,  Maurice  G.  (pseudonym  of  Eric 
Frank  Russell),  86 

Hull,  Edna  Mayne,  112,  117,  122,  123, 
127,  130,  139 
Huxley,  Aldous,  158 


Isip  (brothers),  118 


Jameson,  Malcolm,  52,  57,  60,  62,  78, 
83,  90,  110,  114,  125,  138,  141 
Janifer,  Laurence  M.  (see  also  Mark 
Phillips),  210 

Jenkins,  Will  F.  (see  also  Murray 
Leinster),  5 

Jessel,  John  (pseudonym  of  Stanley  G. 

Weinbaum),  36 
Johnson,  Leslie  T.,  42,  91 
Jones,  Nell  R.,  41,  91 
Jones,  Raymond  F.,  96,  104,  116,  120, 
126,  130,  140,  198,  200,  205 
Judd,  Cyril  (pseudonym  of  C.  M. 
Kombluth  and  Judith  Merril),  199 


Kafka,  Franz,  162 

Keller,  David  H.,  2,  63 

Kelly,  Frank  K.,  24,  32 

Kline,  Otis  Adelbert,  1,  63 

Knight,  Damon,  163,  198 

Knight,  Norman  L.,  42,  57,  60,  79,  80, 

96,  109 

Kolliker,  (artist),  118 

Kombluth,  Cyril  M.  (see  also  S.  D. 
Gottesman,  Cecil  Corwin,  Kenneth 
Falconer  and  Cyril  Judd),  191,  199, 
200,  213 

Korzybskl,  Count  Alfred,  137 
Kramer,  (artist),  100 

Krulfeld,  M.,  96 

Kuttner,  Henry  (see  also  Lawrence 
O’Donnell  and  Lewis  Padgett),  109, 
112,  114,  115,  120,  127,  138,  145,  155, 
172,  184,  194,  201,  202,  211,  212 

Lafayette,  Rene  (pseudonym  of  L.  Ron 
Hubbard),  84,  148,  165,  172 
Latham,  Philip  (pseudonym  of  Dr.  R.  S. 

Richardson),  139,  175,  195 
Leiber,  Fritz,  119,  120,  121,  123,  125, 
134,  137,  138,  191,  194,  195,  213,  214 
Leinster,  Murray  (see  also  Will  F. 
Jenkins),  xiii,  xviil,  1,  5,  6,  12,  13, 

24,  28,  31,  32,  36,  39,  110,  134,  135, 
136,  165,  183,  205,  206,  207,  208,  210, 
211,  212,  214 
Lewis,  Clive  Staples,  158 
Ley,  Willy  (see  also  Robert  Willey),  42, 
57,  69,  84,  122,  125,  136,  167,  176,  181 
Lincoln,  Abraham,  xvii 
Lloyd,  Harold,  xx 
Locke,  E.  L.,  167 
Long,  Amelia  Reynolds,  69 
Long,  Frank  Belknap,  111 
Long,  Wesley  (pseudonym  of  George  O. 
Smith),  130,  134 

Lovecraft,  Howard  Phillips,  39,  41,  116 
Lowndes,  Robert  A.  W.,  60 
Lupoff,  Richard,  vii,  xxii 
Lyon,  Lyman  R.  (pseudonym  of  L. 
Sprague  de  Camp),  66 

McClary,  Thomas  Calvert,  15,  20,  50 
McComas,  J.  Francis,  56,  169 
MacDonald,  Anson  (pseudonym  of  Robert 
A.  Heinlein),  84,  86,  87,  91,  94,  96, 

104,  106,  108,  112,  176,  177 
Macfarlane,  W.,  175 
McGuire,  John  J.,  200 
McLaughlin,  Dean,  209 
MacLean,  Katherine,  175,  195 


222 


INDEX 


Marchlonl,  Mark,  38,  63 

Marks,  Winston  K.,  97 

Martinez,  (artist),  209,  210 

Maugham,  W.  Somerset,  212 

May,  Julian  C.,  197 

Meek,  Captain  S.  P.,  5,  6,  183 

Merrll,  Judith  (see  also  Cyril  Judd), 

158,  163,  199 

Merritt,  Abraham,  1,  2,  39,  46,  47,  157, 
169 

Metcalf,  Norman,  vll,  190 
Miller,  P.  Schuyler,  2,  46,  66,  70,  84, 
87,  90,  114,  127,  181,  197,  198 
MUler,  Walt,  191,  195,  198 
Miller,  Walter  M,,  Jr.,  196,  200,  205, 
212,  214 

Monroe,  Lyle  (pseudonym  of  Robert  A. 
Helnleln),  187 

Moore,  Catherine  L.,  28,  31,  36,  38,  68, 
102,  109,  112,  115,  118,  124,  125,  131, 
140,  183,  195,  201,  212 
Moskowltz,  Sam,  xxll 

Nostradamus,  122 

Nowlan,  Philip  Francis  (see  also  Frank 
PhlUlps),  2,  79 
Noyga,  (artist),  195 

O’Donnell,  Lawrence  (pseudonym  of 
Henry  Kuttner  and  C.  L.  Moore),  112, 
115,  118,  140,  145,  195,  201 
Oliver,  Chad,  200,  203,  205,  211 
Olson,  Bob,  2 

Orban,  Paul,  62,  66,  118,  123(illo),  143, 
157,  164,  167,  174,  181,  195,  198,  200 

Padgett,  Lewis  (pseudonym  of  Henry 
Kuttner  and  Catherine  L,  Moore),  109, 
110,  111,  112,  114,  115,  117,  118,  120, 
125,  126,  127,  131,  134,  136,  138,  139, 
142,  165,  166,  172,  187,  201 
Page,  Norvell  W,,  64,  81 
Pal,  George,  195,  205 
Palmer,  Raymond  A.,  10,  63,  169,  191, 

Pattee,  (artist),  195 

Pawelka,  (artist),  200,  202 

Pease,  M.  C.,  198 
Pelcher,  Anthony,  5 
PhlUlps,  Alexander  M.,  64 
PhUllps,  Frank  (pseudonym  of  Philip 
Francis  Nowlan),  79 
PhlUlps,  Mark  (pseudonym  of  Laurence 
M.  Janlfer  and  RandaU  Garrett),  210 
PhUllps,  Vic,  60,  84 
Pierce,  John  R.  (fiee  also 


Piper,  H.  Beam,  144,  155,  158,  163,  164, 
190,  195,  196,  197,  200,  204,  207 
PUto,  172 

Poe,  Edgar  Allan,  39 

Pohl,  Frederlk,  64,  191,  212,  213 

RandaU,  Robert  (pseudonym  of  RandaU 
Garrett  and  Robert  Silverberg),  196, 
207 

Raphael,  Rick,  211 
Reeve,  Arthur  B.,  2 
Rhine,  J.  B,,  187 

Richardson,  R.  S.  (see  also  Philip 
Latham),  139,  167,  175,  176,  177,  181, 
195,  214 

Riley,  Frank,  202,  204  ,  214 
Robinson,  Frank  M.,  xxii,  81,  197 
Rocklynne,  Ross,  43,  57,  69,  81,  92,  108, 
114 

Rogers,  Alva,  viil,  lx,  xx,  xxll 
Rogers,  Hubert,  60,  61(Ulo),  70,  71(iUo), 
73,  76,  77(Ulo),  79,  80,  81,  83,  86,  87, 
88,  89(1110),  95,  96,  98,  99{lUo),  100, 
102,  103(mo),  106,  108,  109,  112,  114, 
118,  141,  143,  145,  148,  154,  155,  157, 
160,  163,  166,  173(iUo),  174,  176,  181, 
186,  188,  189(Ulo),  195,  196,  198,  200, 
205,  206 

Rogers,  Sidonie,  xxll 
Rousseau,  Victor,  3,  4 
Russell,  Eric  Frank  (see  also  Maurice 
G.  Hugi),  42,  57,  64,  86,  91,  100,  106, 
126,  141,  148,  158,  161,  162,  164,  167, 
168,  184,  197,  200,  204,  206,  207,  209, 
210,  214 

Sanders,  Winston  P.,  210,  211 
Santry,  (artist),  181 

Saunders,  Caleb  (pseudonym  of  Robert 
A.  Helnleln),  96 

Schachner,  Nathan  (see  also  Chan  Cor¬ 
bett),  6,  16,  17,  18,  20,  22,  28,  32,  36, 
40,  41,  42,  57,  65,  67,  68,  74,  76,  77, 
83,  92,  95,  98,  100,  146,  183 
Schmitz,  James  H.,  174,  191,  196,  198, 
206 

Schneeman,  Charles,  38,  42,  50,  52, 
53(Ulo),  55(iUo),  58,  62,  65,  67(lUo), 
68(mo),  69(lUo),  70,  72,  73(Ulo),  75, 
77,  81,  87(1110),  93(lUo),  100,  105(iUo), 
106,  108,  112,  113(1110),  118,  146, 
147(lUo),  149,  155,  167,  176,  177,  195, 
200 

Schuneman,  Ann,  xxii 
Servlss,  Garrett  P.,  1,  2 
Shaver,  Richard  S.,  169,  191,  192 


INDEX 


223 


Shelley,  Mary,  116 
Sherred,  T.  L.,  145 
Shiras,  Wilmar  H.,  158,  164,  165,  172, 
190,  195 

Silverberg,  Robert  (see  also  Robert 
Randall),  196,  207,  208,  209 
Slmak,  Clifford  D.,  6,  54,  57,  60,  62,  66, 
79,  107,  115,  122,  132,  138,  140,  154, 
155,  184,  203,  209,  213,  215 
Sloan,  T.  O’Conor,  2,  129 
Smidley,  Anne,  45 
Smith,  Clark  Ashton,  64 
Smith,  Edward  Elmer,  vi,  xt,  2,  14,  19, 
24,  26,  28,  29,  30,  31,  42,  46,  47,  48, 
54,  59,  62,  63,  66,  71,  72,  73,  75,  76, 
99,  100,  104,  149,  150,  151,  152,  153, 
155,  160,  168,  176,  187 
Smith,  George  O.  (see  also  Wesley  Long), 
110,  120,  126,  127,  129,  130,  134,  139 
Smyth,  Henry  D.,  138 
Sniflen,  (artist),  143 

Speer,  Jack,  133 
Staley,  M.  L.,  5 
Stapledon,  Olaf,  81,  165 
Stark,  J.  Ben,  vii 
Stein,  Modest,  111 
Stevens,  Francis,  31 
Stewart,  Will  (pseudonym  of  Jack 
Williamson),  107,  111,  112,  113,  170 
Stine,  G.  Harry  (see  also  Lee  Correy), 
198 

Stout,  Rex,  108 

Stuart,  Don  A.  (pseudonym  of  John  W. 
Campbell,  Jr.),  28,  29,  30,  31,  32,  33, 
36,  38,  39,  42,  56,  57,  62,  100,  176, 

183 

Stuart,  Dona,  29 

Sturgeon,  Theodore,  64,  70,  83,  87,  88, 
90,  92,  95,  96,  100,  104,  131,  138, 

141,  143,  145,  153,  154,  155,  165,  176, 
177,  184,  206,  212,  213 
Swanson,  (artist),  195 


Taine,  John  (pseudonym  of  Eric  Temple 
Bell),  32,  63 

Tarrant,  Catherine,  181,  194 
Taurasi,  James  V.,  Sr.,  xxli 
Taylor,  J.  Gibson,  20 
Tench,  C.  V.,  5 
Tenn,  William,  144,  200 
Thompson,  (artist),  58 

Timmins,  William,  109,  111,  114,  118, 
120,  121(illo),  126,  135(iUo),  136,  141, 
142,  143,  145,  157,  167,  190,  195 


Tremaine,  Frederick  Orlln,  xvl,  xvii- 
xvlii,  xxii,  xxili,  17,  18,  24,  26,  29,  30, 
32,  38,  40,  44,  46,  47,  48,  49,  57,  59, 

60,  65,  127,  128,  153,  183,  184 
Tremaine,  (F.  O.’s  brother),  59 
Tucker,  “Bob*  Arthur  Wilson,  44,  45,  46, 
133 

Vance,  Jack,  191, 199,  205, 109,  211,  212,  , 
214 

van  Dongen,  H.  R.,  186,  198,  200,  202, 
204,  205,  208,  209,  211 
van  Kampen,  Karl  (pseudonym  of  John 
W.  Campbell,  Jr.),  30 
van  Lome,  Warner,  59,  60 
van  Vogt,  Alfred  Elton,  59,  68,  69,  70, 

74,  78,  79,  81,  82,  84,  90,  94,  100,  101, 
104,  106,  107,  110,  111,  112,  114,  116, 
118,  123,  124,  125,  126,  130,  134,  137, 
138,  139,  144,  146,  147,  155,  158,  162, 
163,  165,  166,  168,  170,  176,  177,  184, 
187,  188,  189,  193,  195 
Verne,  Jules,  vl,  2 
Verrlll,  A.  Hyatt,  2 
Vincent,  Harl,  6,  13,  15,  75 
von  Munchausen,  A.  110,  118 
von  Rachen,  Kurt  (pseudonym  of  L.  Ron 
Hubbard),  80,  81,  86,  104 

Waldrop,  F.  N.,  144 
Walton,  Harry,  86,  90 
Wandrei,  Donald,  xv,  20,  30 
Ward,  (artist),  195 

Warner,  Harry,  Jr.,  133,  142 
Washington,  George,  xvii 
Weinbaum,  Helen,  33 
Welnbaiun,  Stanley  G.  (see  also  John 
Jessel),  32,  33,  34,  35,  36,  37,  38,  40, 
63,  81,  100,  167,  183,  201 
Welker,  (artist),  200 

Wellman,  Manly  Wade,  51,  60,  70,  91, 

207 

WeUs,  H.  G.,  Vi,  xvii,  2,  96 
Wesso  (see  Wessolowski,  H.  W.) 
Wessolowski,  Hans  Waldemar,  3(illo), 

6,  7(iUo),  9(illo),  lO(illo),  ll(lUo), 
13(1110),  14,  16,  38,  42,  43(iUo),  47, 
51(Ulo),  57,  58,  60,  62,  63,  72,  141, 

186 

West,  Wallace,  74 

White,  William  Anthony  Parker  (see 
also  Anthony  Boucher  and  H,  H. 
Holmes),  109,  110,  116,  122 
Whitehead,  Henry  S.,  64 
Wilcox,  Don,  91 
Wilhelm,  Kate,  208 


224 


INDEX 


Willey,  Robert  (pseudonym  of  Willy 
Ley),  42,  84 

Williams,  Robert  Moore,  52 
Williamson,  Jack  (see  also  Will 

Stewart),  2,  6,  13,  20,  22,  24,  28,  32, 
36,  39,  50,  53,  57,  60,  61,  62,  63,  64, 
65,  79,  95,  102,  103,  107,  113,  118, 
143,  146,  155,  158,  160,  161,  166,  168, 
170,  183,  187,  214 
Wilson,  Thomas,  200 
Winter,  H.  G.  (pseudonym  of  Harry 
Bates  and  Desmond  Hall),  10 


Winter,  Joseph  A.,  167,  193 
Wollhelm,  Donald,  44,  157 
Wood,  Edward,  vll,  xxlii 
Wright,  Roscoe  E.,  133 
Wylie,  Philip,  81,  158 

Yamin,  Michael,  155 
Youd,  Christopher  S.  (see  also  John 
Christopher),  174 

Zagat,  Arthur  Leo,  140 


I^ffcr/ON